


Abnormal Anomaly

by Sansarion



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fellswap (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blackmail, By sans I mean reader, Dissociation, Ectobiology, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Honestly this is a mess, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealousy, M/M, Maybe the Gaster bros, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscommunication, No More Resets (Undertale), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader/sans is an unreliable narrator, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Skeleton Puns, Slow Burn, Slowest Burn, They are pretty saucy, Timeskips, Touch-Starved, Triggers, Ugh sans needs help, Very heavy in the begining, War, future fluff, juicy stuff is for later when MC is not going through a mental breakdown, long waits for updates, non-blood relations, reader is sans, srry for that, this fic is my guilty pleasure, this fic is not exactly purely cannon for my design but I like to think of it as a possibility, this sans is my own au, using comedy as a coping method, voices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansarion/pseuds/Sansarion
Summary: You pass away abruptly, and you manage to lose everything.Then you're thrusted into another body, into another life.You become Sans, yet something is wrong. It isn't fun, thrilling nor what you dreamed of. It is war torn, violent, unforgiving and everything goes wrong. Papyrus hates you.Then from war you end up in a basement face to face with better alternates. Your memory is hazy and LV high, how will you deal with papyrus ignoring you, and the weight of your sins? How will you control yourself?You won't be able to hide from your alternates for long, and they're strangely pushy. Life seems to hate you, doesn't it?-Chapter 1-3 is back story, and importante to the main character(sans/reader)Main story starts on chapter 4.I suck and I honestly have problems writing a cohesive story, plz forgiveFind me on Tumblr for art/questions: Sansarion
Relationships: Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader, Sans/Sans (Undertale), W. D. Gaster/Sans
Comments: 323
Kudos: 808





	1. Clear Differences

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Terrorism is implied in your past, and a lot of uncomfortable situations so if you can't handle it I suggest skipping ahead to chapter 4, but you risk missing a lot of backstory. But honestly this whole fic is quite mature so if you are honestly a kind and plushy soul plz don't read, I can't guarantee your happines...  
> Oh and I'm sorry, but sooooo much angst is in this one. I suck making characters happy.

You couldn’t recall when the world went to shit. 

You were an anomaly. A sans of a universe veering off from the alpha timeline. You had knowledge from the person you used to be….a human. 

You were a human in another dimension. Where sans was a figment of imagination, a character in a game and a muse for people to create and alter. Then you died and became him, or him you. It was always weird thinking of yourself as a game character, when you were in fact...real. 

You were and are a human and monster. Both identities coexisting and forming into one. Hard to explain and completely beyond reason.   
An anomaly Sans, that was for sure.   
-

All you could feel was pain and the sun, the heat on your skin and the burn that covered your body. The tears in your eyes and the gravel digging into you as you stared into a face that you loved.   
Everything happened so suddenly. You didn’t have time to savor the moment.   
You could still taste chocolate ice cream on your tongue.  
You feel your throat tighten. 

Chaos was erupting around you, people screaming and running past both of you.   
The gunshots continue in the background yet you stay where you lay. Immobile as you stare into her emerald eyes. 

You’re scared. More scared than you’ve ever been in your life. Not for yourself but her. Even if you managed to take the majority of shots she was still hit.   
Was she going to make it? 

Your breaths come out strangled, and short; yet you stare at her. You can’t speak. Blood stops your words from forming.   
She smiles, the dimpling of cheeks that she always showers you with. The smile that never seizes to lift your heart….and for a moment you’re okay. This is okay. She’ll be fine.   
You were okay with dying. 

But then her eyes are no longer bright, glazing over like ice over water. Her smile seeping away through the crevices of her grip. 

You stare a while longer, and you shudder in pain. She wasn't supposed to die, she just began living. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair.   
You feel heavy and you want to tell her to wake up and stop the joke but you can’t. You feel your eyes slid close. 

No. no. no. Don’t take it from me.   
She’s the only good thing in your life.   
It’s not fair. Please. No. 

You’re useless all the way to the end.   
…..  
When you woke it was….disorientating. It was like a light was switched on and suddenly everything was in high definition. 

Yet the pain, the burn, the image of her was ingrained in the precipice of your mind, yet it wasn’t supposed to be there. 

The environment before you was completely foreign, there was no fire, gravel, blood, nothing… If anything it was bare, white and clinical and everything felt heightened, so unlike everything you’ve ever experienced before. The screams were gone, replaced with numbing silence. You weren’t even breathing. 

It was as if all of your senses were maxed out, yet muffled. Like a ringing in your ear after you pop an eardrum but more hazy…. It was like waking from a hangover, unaware of everything around you, yet more sensitive to them. Almost too much. 

You move to the best of your ability but it doesn't take you long to realize the changes.  
The lack of weight, firmness and friction that once was there due to skin, muscle and fat. The sensation of hair on your head and the sleep under your eyelids. They were no longer there.

You look down and you’re boney...but then again this was... how you always were.   
The overlap was weird, and it took awhile for you to sit up, the creak of joints and the energy that thrummed through your bones made your mind race even more. Where were you? What happened? Why is your body like this? Are you dead? It hurt to think.

“ughh…” Is that your voice? It’s much deeper than you ever remember it being, even before you could remember your voice was….higher pitched yet firm? This was a timber, softer yet smooth yet still uniquely you? 

What in the world was happening? You carried your hands to your throat and you jolted in surprise. There was nothing but bone where your pulse was supposed to be. Looking down at your hands; your fingers look like pure porcelain, clawed at the ends and fused together unlike human bones. You remember your hands being more...firmer, a soft physicality that came with skin and callus. 

What was your name? You remember it being called something that started with an L, yet right now...you didn’t have one. It didn’t make sense. It was your name but you couldn’t remember. 

But one thing that was crisp in your mind was... _her._

You were supposed to be with her, but….she was dead wasn’t she? 

_Rose was silly, always laughing despite the graveness of the situation. Did she not see herself?_

_The lack of color in her skin, the weight she lost, the tubes sticking out of her._

_How she held on was beyond you._

_You were useless to help. Unable to lessen the pain she felt, the fear of death hanging over her frail life._

_You couldn't do anything but watch her fall apart and smile for you._

Rose….that was what you called her. Strong yet every bit weak. Dead. You never met her yet lived every day of your life with her… it didn’t make sense. It just wasn’t _fair._

You recall the faint feeling of heaviness, the weight on your eyes and the pain that coursed through every nerve in your body. The bullets ingrained into your arteries and the blood that flowed like a river out of you. 

Terro..rists? Yes, it was an attack. 

That day you were taking her out for the first time in years. She was sick for as long as you remember. Always stuck in a hospital, eyes wandering to the sky hoping to be under the shining sun. 

_That day you were both eating ice cream, she had dulce de leche and you had chocolate. She made fun of you for being a messy eater and you enjoyed watching her laugh._

_You were chuckling when the bullets were shot in the courtyard._

A shaky sigh exited again, you didn't want it. You didn’t want to relive her, it was too much. **stop** . **Disconnect**. 

You looked down. Back to the questions at hand. 

Were you reincarnated as a skeleton? 

Slowly you moved, back to examining yourself. You had a hospital gown of some sorts on, the bones of your arms thick and slender, sharp at the edges yet mesmerizing to see. You touched it and the scrape of bones and the rush of underlying itch startled you. This was your body. 

Looking up, the room you're in is small, the mattress you're on flat and bare. 

There's a mirror on the wall and nothing else, white walls and a door with no handle. It looked like a prisoner’s room. Empty. 

You stumble up, bare feet against cold marble, and you slowly inch towards the mirror. You needed to see yourself.

The sight of you is surprising, jarring and yet it answers the questions you had. It is you. 

It is with a jolt of shock that you come to a weird realization of the truth, the truth that you are now what you used to perceive….was just a game character. Sans. In the flesh.

Well not exactly. You look like _a_ sans that’s for sure, but different. Blunt teeth with 2 sharp canines, eye lights a stark thin ring of gold surrounding a deep azure blue. 

The sans you knew of, from what you could recall from when you were a human definitely didn’t look like this, yet this was you. 

It is alarming, yet familiar. This is the first time you’ve seen yourself since you were brought into life. The fact of the matter setting a cold in your bones. What-

“Nice to see you awake A-1.” a honeyed voice broke through, sweet yet you felt a jolt of warning. 

You turn your head so quickly a crack resounds in the air, and you bare your teeth in a hiss as you reorientate your skull back to normal. That was new. 

The skeleton in front of you chuckles, tall and broad, teeth blunt with canines not as sharp as yours, skull longer and eye sockets half lidded with large white eyelights outlined with faint crimson. A lab coat covers him, and his hands have gaping triangle shaped holes within them. 

His presence demands attention. 

Gaster is what your memory supplies, you recall him being described more...well melting.

A horrifying and imposing figure that torments the mind of a sans according to the fans…. 

His appearance doesn’t match what you remember. 

This one is almost...normal. A skeleton monster that is not breaking apart. 

He called you A-1, was Sans not your name? You're starting to think this is a dream.This just has to be a dream.

“A-1...is that sUpposed to be me?” you question, voice cracking and it unsettles you. You don’t need a tongue to _talk_ , instead it just...comes out. It’s disembodied and so bizarre. You almost feel inclined to test your voice with an actual tongue. If you could make a magic one...Okay maybe that’s for another day.

He jerks slightly, eye sockets widening and his smile creeping wider as he starts walking fervently towards you. His demeanor rapidly different. The change in him is so sudden that you immediately flinch back. 

You are no longer safe in his presence, and the air becomes thicker. Almost suffocatingly. Feels more like a nightmare now. 

You back up fast, tripping and landing on the mattress behind you. “back o-off!” you manage to say. 

In a second he is in front of you, grasping your face with one hand before you could react, the other harshly gripping your wrists in an iron grip. He towers over you and you stare up in pure confusion and horror. 

“How intriguing! You were just born into life, yet you seem so aware, intelligent, cautious. How? You shouldn’t know how to speak any language.” He says hysterically, mumbling, not looking at you but rather your chest, looking thrilled by what he saw. 

He rips off the thin clothes covering your ribs suddenly and you choke, a strangled noise escaping you as you claw at him to stop. What the fuck was he doing?

You panic as your arms are held over your head, Gaster gripping them so hard they roughly scrape against each other. You feel powerless in your shock. 

He lets go of your chin as he makes a motion towards your ribs, and suddenly you feel as if something dear was ripped out of you and you screech. The noise is unlike anything you heard, and you wonder if it’s really you. 

You never thought you could feel so empty before. 

The brightness amazes you. In between both of you is a heart, upside down but bright mixture of azure, gold and red. A mixture of colors and yet you feel a sense of pure revolt, this was not right. This was your soul right? Why’d he take it out?

“Beautiful..” he muttered, instantly reaching towards it with his hands. You feel dread pass through you, if this was truly your soul you were not letting him touch it. **Don’t let him touch it. Stop HIM!!!**

“DON’T!” you snarl out and in a moment your soul returns back into you with a snap. Like a rubber band pulled to the breaking point of its elasticity, you exhale heavily. 

The glow of your soul is gone and you feel yourself break out of his grip as newfound energy finds you. 

You strike him, foreign and unbridled power coursing through you. Time slows as you barely believe your eyes. The bone grows and forms into rugged armor, thin cracks seeping golden magic, surrounding the entirety of your hand to your forearm before crashing into his jaw in an uppercut. It looked similar to a gauntlet. 

The ear piercing sound of bone breaking under your fist doesn't stop him from being sent flying, the crack of his back hitting the door echoing in your skull. You never felt this….strong.

It takes you awhile to gain control of yourself again, the air is silent and the atmosphere brims with something you can’t identify. You’ve been in your fair share of fights but you were never like...this. It never felt like this.

You note the rugged bones that seemed to have surrounded you in some sort of barrier, dissipating into dust a few seconds later. In your periphery a large Gaster Blaster snarls, you can’t breathe as you eye it, do you even need to breathe? But by god did the sight take your breath away. 

Suspended in the air, teeth razor sharp, jaw unhinged as it’s eyes flicker between blue and gold before disappearing as well. It looked like a beast, a horrifying unrestrainable demon, what you’ve seen online could never compare. 

You could use magic, deadly magic. You _killed_ Gaster, oh my god _._

“Perfect..” You startle, eyes refocusing on Gaster, horrified in what you see. 

The lower half of his jaw ripped open slightly, a splintered mess excreting marrow and dust. His eyes pierce you in what seems to be satisfaction(?). “You're just what I need…” 

“shit. i-” you don’t even get to finish your rushed apology when a jolt of pain runs through your spine, straight from the back of your skull. Everything goes dark, the feeling of every bit of power in you bleeding out as you fall. 

-

When you woke up, you quickly learned of what fucked up alternate universe you were in, the utter gravity of the situation settling deep in your bones.

This was the worst. 

The night was a dreamless haze, in a body that was yours yet not. Fully grown yet new, unscarred, naked. 

You remember hating your own body before, the muscles that were sore every day. The blood that oozed out of wounds that stained new clothes, the black and blue left behind. The tangle in your hair, irritation in your brown eyes as you bit on thick nails in your anxiety.

But you missed it now. 

As bones replaced what once was in the mirror before you. 

Skull hollow except for the new magic based eyelights that stared back, mocking.

Grimacing, there were now triangle shaped devices now ingrained in the bone of your forearms, along with one on the base of your skull you found. 

Unsettling aching left behind, Gaster must’ve put these into you when you were unconscious.

This thought made you more on edge than anything. 

You knew this was no time to seek what is lost but as you touch bone you couldn't help the dizziness of alienation. You felt….wrong yet right. This wasn’t a dream, this was reality. This was permanent. 

You stared at the vibrant eye lights, gaze blank, the panic settling into mere uneasiness. 

You looked up and saw Gaster in the reflection behind you, standing tall, eyelights hyper focused on you. You didn’t hear him enter. 

You both make eye contact, your golden blue ones to his white crimson. How long has he been watching you?

You wanted to pass out again right then and there, but gulp down your surprise. Turning to face him, you refuse to show him your true feelings.

Moving quickly across the room, you leaned limply against the cool wall spine to the wall, arms wrapped around your bare body. 

Your mind was racing as he stayed silent, watching you move. 

From what you recalled, this was not what the original Sans went through. But then again, his back story was never delved into all that much. Albeit the alternates that other people made up definitely had more depth, you didn’t understand how much of those narratives bled into your current situation. 

This was just….sickening. The lack of information you had, yet the knowledge you held. 

To think the old fantasy of entering a world you admired would be so very… horrifying. Honestly things didn’t look so good for you. Not fun at all, you're almost bitter. 

Gaster cleared his throat. Did he even need to do that? He’s a goddamn skeleton.

Fuck, you were a skeleton now!!

“It’s good to see you up.….I apologize for my earlier actions, I lost control. You honestly took me by surprise with your show of sentience. It's not often newborns talk and show such awareness.” He said leering, copying your position as he leaned against the door, arms crossed. His voice was clinical, mocking with underlying questions. 

Posture spoke degrees of his control, yet his hands communicated otherwise, the slight tremble of his fingers digging into his arms speaking louder than words. You couldn’t help but feel that he was holding back from lunging at you.

He was dangerous. 

“I also had to stop you from causing any more damage.” He continued using one hand to point to his face with a wide smile, wagging some type of controller in the other.

You eyed his face, the gaping crack from the edge of his smile down to his cheek being evidence of what happened earlier. You did that, but you didn’t feel any guilt at the information. 

Looking at the controller, you wondered if it controlled the weird things implanted in you. If it did you knew better than to attack him, you clenched your fists. 

“i would say sorry but then again is it normal to pull the soul out someone just cuz’ you’re surprised?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, and he looks just as surprised. His eyelights abruptly turned completely crimson before reverting back to white. 

The shock of fear was new to you as well, and for a second you felt like prey staring into the face of a predator. 

“Hmm.. I apologize for that. But it truly is curious how you know such things even though I have not yet taught you the language you speak. After all, you recently just gained consciousness. Wingdings does not communicate as well through monsters, and yet you speak it so fluently.”

“I would know after all, I created it and you.” 

You balked, clutching yourself closer as your brai - no mind ran haywire. What were you supposed to say to that? You thought you were talking normally, everything you said sounding natural and normal to you, but Wingdings? How is that even communicated in words? 

And, even more so that you found out that you were _just_ created. 

If so, you weren’t supposed to know how to articulate nor understand the threat Gaster himself posed previously to your soul. You messed up big time. 

“i- i don’t know. i just know how and what things are okay. i just don’t know. a-anyway who are you?” you sputter, laying truth with lies as you changed the subject. 

You knew after all who he was, just not the differences he posed.

He was different and similar from the Gasters you knew of, a doctor or scientist, intelligent and all. Near what you imagined he’d look if he never fell into the core. But the man before you was simply...unhinged. 

“I am Gaster Serif, so I assume that would now make you S… Sans Serif..” He mumbled the last part mostly to himself. “No, Sans Comic Serif would…”

He was now talking to himself, and you almost wanted to laugh at the irony of him naming you on the spot. After a font nonetheless.

“You are my creation.” He said rather bluntly quickly refocusing, and it only cemented further what you assumed before. “Do you understand?”

You nod sharpening your expression, “what are these?” you pointed to the triangle shaped devices. 

Gaster’s smile widened farther, “Those are to keep your magic levels to a minimum, after all we wouldn’t want to resort to putting you into a momentary coma every time you became rowdy? Now would we Sans?” mocking in his tone, he clasped his hands. 

You glared instantly fiddling with the protruding device, damn thing was deep in your bone. It’d be hard to extract it. Most of all it was evidence of the power he held over you. What did he intend to do? The why’s of the situation only increasing, you really wished he would stop. 

“....why did you create me then?” You knew you wouldn't like the answer, but you sincerely hoped this universe was somewhat vanilla and wouldn’t go a darker route than anticipated. 

“I’m glad you asked _Sans_ , you’re far more intelligent than I anticipated, and not to mention your power,” He shuddered as his face filled with pleasure, “is _far_ past what I expected, and I intend to put that to use. You see..” Gaster said, clapping his hands and striding before you in a few long steps. 

You tried hard to keep your face in place, but the fear rose as he crouched in front of you, softly touching his injury you gave him. “You are my weapon.” 

If you had blood, it would be frozen. What did that mean?

“Although,” he sneered looking at you once more, grabbing your chin and titling it, “now that I’m more clear of mind...your HP is less than desirable. A measly, ONE.” You could feel the magic in your eye sockets sputter out at his words and his white eyelights pulsing with a blood red. Your magic was receding, akin to a dying flame. You were so scared it was almost unbearable, but just as fast as it came, rage filled its place. “It’s such a shame.” His face was closer now. 

You slapped his hand off of you backing away, “so what! if it weren’t for these” you gestured to the devices on your forearms and grabbed your nape where the other laid, “i would’ve dusted you.”

It was an empty threat, and you both knew it. But damn, you weren’t a lab rat, someone made for his amusement! It didn’t matter that you were unfamiliar with magic; nor did it matter that you were born a day ago, or decades ago, no one would treat you as such. Especially a character that wasn’t even incorporated in the main plot. Fuck that. 

This was your story. 

He instantly lighted up, “Huh, well that might be troublesome. But you don’t seem to understand a critical factor my sans…”

**“Since when were you in control?”**

He was gone in a second, his disturbing expression flashing out of existence. You stared into the white of your room in shock, you suppressed a shiver. 

You wanted to wake up. 


	2. Shortcuts and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn about the world the hard way, and you meet someone important. You make promises that you can’t keep, and you realize that you don’t have any control over the situation.

It seemed like life wasn’t all that it made out to be, especially for the sans you happened to become. It seemed like this particular universe simply hated you. This was all so wrong, everything was all twisted and not at all what it was supposed to be.

You quickly learned while you learned more about your supposed ‘creator’, he gave no answer as of yet. Rather he seemed to be fascinated with you. You had what he ‘needed’ for his next experimentation.

At first Gaster took samples. 

Marrow, and pieces of your bones, scraping away whatever he needs from your magicless body. At first you fought him on it, but it seemed gravity magic worked just fine to overpower you.   
Which was...just fantastic, you finally have magic in your arsenal and you can’t even use it to defend yourself.

The pain was indescribable each visit, and it seemed to grow and fester. You didn't get anywhere. 

Days pass, and each you wake up with a sinking feeling of losing sight of who you were. 

You wonder some days if your whole life was just a fever dream, that you’d wake up to find the reality you live in was a lie and you’d have hair to touch and skin to pinch. No bones, just firm flesh in sight. 

But in the end you always woke up, stood and saw a skull in the mirror. 

But with newfound time, you thought about the life you had, the reason for you to be here, why your life was now a nightmare. 

What you came up with was obvious.

Your name is Sans Comic Serif funnily enough. 

Your...creator is Gaster Serif. No Papyrus that you know of, which was for the best...considering the current ‘family’ situation.   
But nonetheless that particular fact was a disappointment, you were sorely in need of….contact. You admired Papyrus’s character and wanted to meet him in normal conditions. 

You are in what you believe is a Lab. No other forms of life to be accounted for in the place although you are sure there are others elsewhere. The only person you see is Gaster….which is horrible since he’s horrible. 

Your personal cell is enclosed, fortified and the door hasn’t been opened yet. Due to the lack of a handle, one can assume it can only be opened from the outside. You think Gaster can shortcut, so he often forgoes the door when you’re not looking. 

You cannot use magic but from what you remember it’s strong and different from what you thought it'd be. The growth of your bones around your arm when you hit gaster was definitely a disparity. Was your magic more melee based? Could you shortcut like OG Sans? You honestly didn’t know. 

You don’t know the relationship between humans and monsters in this universe either.

Were you on the surface? Trapped underground? Was the situation like the Underfell or Horrortale verses? Or was it like the Alpha timeline; all possibilities weren’t confirmed yet. 

All you knew was that you were trapped, until Gaster decided to use you. 

A weapon… But against who? What was different about this version of you, and was this normal? 

You needed answers. 

\- 

“What is this Sans? You are rather amenable today.” Gaster said as you gasped in phantom pain in your cot, a flimsy blanket on you, bandages over the incisions he made hidden by a thin gown. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but I’m rather curious.”

“......’s because I wan’ answers.”

When there was no answer, you looked over. Gaster was slouched slightly on the seat he brought in, thinking, mumbling under his voice. 

“maybe i’m just bonely…” you offered and his head cocked towards you with a snap. You stilled and your soul pulsed with fear. 

“Sans. You made a joke.” 

“yeh an’ what about it…” You muttered hesitantly.

“Sans I have to say, you’re a unique creature, you really are.” Gaster said as he came over, sitting on the mattress next to you. Stiffening, you gritted your teeth. Man was he creepy. It was just a joke.

“You’re inexplicably intelligent, you speak my language when no one else can. You are a part of me yet so different. But there’s more...there's no reason behind it.” He said, voice like a whisper as his hand laid on top of your forehead, you leaned away from the touch as if it burned you. It was very justified since every touch from the Gaster so far, always led to pain. 

“dunno G-Gaster, shouldn’t you know? you made me. although at this point i just want answers on why…” you pointed to the bandages feeling anger rise as you continued “you’re cutting me up for.”

Gaster paused slightly, before resuming in packing up his supplies. “You’ll understand later. Just stay patient Sans.” 

What type of answer is that?! You didn’t understand him, and it was getting old very quick. The pain, the confusion, the cryptic answers. You were sick of this game. 

“you said you wanted me to be a weapon, but you haven't explained shit!” You yelled getting up and glaring at him, you grabbed onto his arm hard. “why Gaster?!” you demanded, almost strangled. 

“You won’t like the answers your questions bring Sans. I need to prepar-” 

“bullshit! so what?! you’re gonna scrape away at me for whatever reason everyday till you get whatever you want, and leave me to dust without a clue of where i am? why you’re so...fucking insane! i’m a weapon, that’s what i got so far, but against who Gaster! who?!”

You panted heavily, and you could feel something, something you could only identify as magic in the air, thick and volatile. Suffocating as always. 

Gaster had a cruel smile etched on his face. 

His eyes glowed a blood red, “Fine Sans, it will be easier if _I show you._ ”

It felt like falling. As if you existed yet didn’t. Time in a moment didn’t exist but it was permanence, nothing makes sens-

FUCK. Your tailbone hit solid land instantly, and you let go of Gaster’s arm.

“what the f-fuck gaster!” scrambling to get up, the shortcut left your head scrambled. 

The realization of what happened hit you. Shit, that was a _shortcut._ You literally cut through space and time, that was so cool. 

But damn it hurt, shakily you stood as your bones wobbled, straining. Gaster really didn't account for the fact he literally cut into you moments ago. 

Sighing you looked up, previous rage gone. Gaster was looking down on you like one would do with an ant, you stiffened, digging your clawed feet into the ground. You didn’t even notice that the floor was now just dirt. 

“Sans. This is what I want you to see.” His voice was callous, empty and heavy. Unlike the manic tirade he would go through usually. He sounded almost tired. 

He stepped out of your way. 

_You had no idea what the insides of another human looked like before this._

The sight was horrible, and before you knew it you were stock still. It felt as if time went slower as the wind picked up and dust ran over you, coating the dead with monster remains. 

Piles and piles of dust laid there alongside corpses of humans. Craters splattered across the field. The land was barren of life and when you looked at Gaster, what you saw only cemented the cruel reality. 

Gaster stood apathetic. Posture not once faltering as he stood overlooking the aftermath of what you assumed was a battlefield. Eyelights gone for once, you turned back. Unconsciously you cataloged every bit, the frozen expressions of people you never knew, clothes that had no owner, blood that looked all too familiar.

A massacre, Gaster brought you to a massacre. 

The blue sky was a mocking sight and the sun was no longer comforting. 

You felt yourself gasp, inaudible sobs as you backed away. No. No. No. No. No. 

Clawing at your skull, you curled into yourself trying to hide from the sight. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t re-

“Sans. This is how our world is.” 

It didn't make sense. 

“We’ve been at war with the humans for years now. Do you see what they’ve done? They even killed their own kind, and for what. Because those kindhearted humans sided with monsterkind. That’s what we are Sans. Monsters. This is your war whether or not you want it to be.” 

“This is our reality.”   
  


It wasn’t fair. 

\- 

You stayed silent for a while after that. Gaster shortcutting you back to your cell and you felt as if your eyelights became a bit more dimmer. The azure blue and gold no longer looked as captivating as it once was.

Life continued. 

Gaster treating you like a specimen, you mechanically went through the motions. You couldn’t care less about him touching you while the truth of war laid in the foreground of your mind. He didn’t linger either. Something changed in the dynamic, and you couldn’t pinpoint it. 

One day he entered through the doors like a normal person. 

“Sans. Follow me.” 

You blearily woke up, and wasn’t given the chance to retort before he walked, fast with his long legs. The door was left wide open in his wake. What?!

“gaster!” You scrambled, running after him fast. “hey! wait up you ass!” 

Damn, you weren’t sure if your body was considered short or tall, but in comparison to Gaster, you only reached around his chest. His strides were akin to a run for you. Damn. 

The halls you noticed were sparse, with the exception of the occasional door you both passed. You weren’t ready for Gaster to stop walking, falling into him and he faced you. “gaste-”

“Sans.” you froze at his strong tone and looked up at his white and red pinpricks. 

“I can trust you to keep composed. Correct?” 

Backing away you glared, what type of question is that? “why does that matter? You can just limit my magic and knock me out.” 

He looked disgruntled, eyebrow creased as he mumbled. “....maybe...time..”

“what?” he looked crazed, eyes momentarily blaring red before muting. He refocused and set a hand on your shoulder, digging in. 

“I’d prefer your cooperation, I understand we started on unpreferable terms, but what I’m about to show you is very important. I need you to stay composed and listen very carefully.” 

Was he trying to make amends? “you have a weird way of saying sorry.” 

“I’m not.” He said resolutely, smiling wide. “I just need you on your best behavior, so unless you’d like to stay in that drab cell I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

You both stared into eachothers eyes, neither of you breaking. “...show me then.” 

His smile crept wider, and he opened the door. To another cell. 

“Sans, meet Papyrus.” 

There he was, smaller than what the in-game character suggested of his size. Rather, he was dwarfed, a child even. Scared. 

His garb was similar to you, a white hospital gown but no bandages. Which was good. Gaster hasn’t touched him which was more than you could say about yourself. 

His eyelights were pinpricks of a light purple and bone structure different but slight fangs still in place. He was a lanky kid, but small nevertheless. He looked….frail. 

Your voice got caught in your throat, and you took unnecessary breaths to calm yourself. You hesitantly stepped forward and the child backed away clutching a small blanket. Immediately, you stopped before looking back to Gaster, back turned to Papyrus. 

Your eye lights went out, “gaster….what...” words failed you.

He looked almost amused, “He was my first experiment with a human child and monsters.” His words were almost casual, “but he was a failure, didn’t wake up even after a month. A big disappointment, but I’m not one to give up. Then you were created, perfect but….” He set his hand on your skull and leaned forward, eyes glaring into you. “You were intelligent, emotional, and you won’t survive because of that, it’s almost pitiful. Such a strong thing beaten by his own self, your loneliness, need of touch, lack of apathy, especially in wartime won’t last. I can’t be what you want so I used you to fix him. With what I obtained from your magic makeup, I managed to make him perfect.” 

The sinking feeling didn’t leave. This was far more skewed than you anticipated. You looked back at Papyrus, and boy did he look confused. You relate. 

“i don’t...are you replacing me?” you hate how childish you sound, how scared. You’re an adult goddamnit….are you?

Gaster actually barked out a laugh, “Stars no! Sans did you even _feel_ the magic you unleashed when we met! It was FAR past what our pathetic race can conjure!! So wild, uncontrollable, unfathomable, so much potential.” He was enveloping you now, and you stood frozen as he trailed one hand down your spine. He exhaled into your neck, a deep and heavy breath.

“No Sans, you're irreplaceable but oh so weak, but I bet that if you had something to care for, to _protect,_ you would, no, _will fight._ If not for our cause but for him, so he can live. Or simply because you _want_ to, because you _need_ to.” 

You trembled, and it was the complete lack of control you held over your own body that sent pure shivers of fear through you. Gaster continued, holding you closer, gripping your nape in a manner that felt...possessive. The pressure in the atmosphere weighed on you. 

“I knew it from the first time I saw your soul, Sans. You're filled with so much rage and hate that has no outlet, and for a monster that shouldn’t have any memories or experiences you look as if you’ve lived the extent of your life. Am I correct? I am, I know it. I always am. But you're also stupidly...empathetic and that will be your downfall as my creation.” He was rambling now, but you knew he knew. 

He knew. He knew you wouldn’t leave Papyrus, that you were tired and weak, that you would fight any given chance just to find….release. He understood that now you’d fight. It wasn’t about choice.

“I’ll give you time with Papyrus, it’ll do you some good.” Gaster mocked, pulling back as he shortcutted away, door slamming shut. 

You blinked, flexing your fingers and twitching as control slowly seeps back into your body. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“Ssss..a!”

You jerked, eyelights magnetically going towards the skeleton monster in the corner. Papyrus looked...worried. He didn’t look day over 5, at least that’s what you thought.

The air didn’t feel as bad as it did with Gaster, the...magic was lighter and curious. Reminded you of home...wherever that may be. It made you lower your guard, and you let it.

“sans. you’re papyrus right?” 

“Ssssans. SsANs! SANS!” Papyrus smiled, he seemed rather proud too. 

You couldn’t even stop the feeling of warmth that possessed you. You were cursed from the beginning, you were screwed from the beginning. This was definitely a trap.

“yup, i’m sans.” it was the first time you actually said it out loud. 

“SANS!” Papyrus seemed happy and wandered towards you, and you wondered where the fear went. 

“hey pap. i’m so happy you're here, even if you're being a big nuisance right now.” Papyrus laughed as you ran a hand over his skull, cupping his cheeks. He didn’t understand you, but that was fine.

For a moment, it was okay. Even if this a death sentence, even if this was a cursed life, it was okay. He was okay. “i’ll protect you.” It was a promise, a promise you wouldn’t break. But you were always bad at keeping promises...


	3. L.O.V.E.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re losing yourself and you don’t even realize it. Papyrus grows and the truth is hidden from him, you grow apart. Revenge isn’t sweet, and neither is change. 
> 
> Everything changes too fast.

Having Papyrus in your life was a blessing and curse. Things changed too fast, and time passed. 

Gaster and you started training. 

You wished Papyrus was never created. 

“what’s wrong, gaster? you’re making Pap nervous just standing there” you said with a bite, thrumming your fingers nervously against a book on Quantum physics. Papyrus restlessly tossed and turned next to you, asleep but definitely feeling Gaster’s presence. 

Magic was funny that way, you learned.

Gaster’s magic specifically incites discomfort. Which made a _lot_ of sense. Pap’s magic made you feel...belonged. It was a more than you could ask in such a world. 

When Gaster didn’t answer you shrugged ignoring him, going back to the reading but you didn't get far, he charged at you. Ripping the book out of your hand, it was fastest you’ve ever seen him move. The book landed on the floor with a slam, and you fell through space. It was the familiar sensation of a shortcut but it still wrecked your mind. 

Gaster’s shortcut’s never meant well. SHIT. 

Gaster had a firm grasp of your forehead. Before you could realize what he was planning, he slammed your skull onto the floor, **hard.**

The crack of your skull rang through your head like a blaring microphone. 

“Huh, it’s as I expected. You’re more resilient than what your HP could infer...” 

You gaped, survival instincts veering ahead you bit into his hand as hard you could. Crunching cartilage under your teeth and eyes ablaze, ignoring the fact half of your jaw went through the gaping triangle in his hand. 

Gaster’s face was plastered with a look of pleasure like when you met. You felt a sick sense of exhilaration. 

**W.D. Gaster Serif**

**LV: 16**

**HP: 700**

**Exp:1,500**

***He’s enjoying himself, an unfair opponent***

  
  


Was that a chec- “Come on Sans, you can do so much more!” He taunted kicking in your ribcage, ripping his hand back from your jaws. “The Humans will obliterate you at this point.” 

You rolled back unphased by the pain. Adjusting quick you bared your teeth as you spat, “fuck you Gaster.”

Crimson eyelights blazing up, he sent scalpel sharp bones towards you as he laughed. His LV was high, how many has he killed looking like that? Looking sickeningly...happy.

You never expected such a fast attack, and yet your body moved before you could process it. The magic in your body no longer tethered and trapped, you struck all of the bones down in an X motion. Your arms were covered in the thick and ragged armor. 

It was horrifying and exhilarating. Fighting Gaster was a rude awakening, a clear demonstration that no matter how strong one could be magically, it pales in the eye of experience. Fighting with magic was so different from fighting as a human, in truth it was a rush of pure horror and excitement. 

You never felt this free. Which is ironic since you’re a slave to this world. 

Maybe that was why, while you grimaced under Gaster's foot as he impaled your armored shoulder with a bone; you couldn’t help the cruel grin as you sent a well placed bone to his face. He looked better when he was injured, marrow leaking from the cut left on his cheek.

His once white lab coat was red and dirtied, sending a sick sense of happiness into you. But you noticed his cruel grin as he pulled out a familiar controller. 

What he did next was something you never expected. He pulls out your soul and you panic as he activates the magic limiters again. 

He caresses it and you scream as you fight against the gravity magic pinning you to the floor. 

Your soul doesn’t look as beautiful as it once was, the colors look mixed, the main color being golden was cracked, and you cry as he squeezes it. 

He’s leaning down holding it, the next words said suspend heavily in your mind as you truly feel pain. 

“Sans. You’re one hit away from dusting.” You felt your eyelights sputter out as the world darkens. 

“If you want to survive out there, you're going to have to learn how to fight. I guarantee we’ll have more fun if you do.” 

You try to speak but you feel so violated, so sick, so filthy you can't utter a word. 

“Don’t disappoint Papyrus, or else he’ll join next time.”

Your soul dulls. 

-

Fight, almost die, pass out. 

Teach Pap how to read; _Surprisingly it was easy for you, picking up knowledge was as easy as breathing. You were never considered academically smart before, so you felt amazing when you absorbed information. As if your mind was hungry for any and all information it could get. You were soon easily able to teach Papyrus. He was so smart, and you smiled fully for the first time since you came to this world._

Fight, almost die, break an arm and eat. 

Read to Papyrus and have dinner; _Monster food was weird for you. Feeling magic in general inside of you, being a battery for your body, reminded you of your mortality as a monster. Fueled by magic, it was no wonder all they left behind was dust. Your upper arm is jagged where the break happened, but it’s easier to hide with new clothes._

Fight, gain a new scar on your cheek and arms.

Watch Papyrus sleep; _Today was rough, Gaster ignored your begging as he broke away the armor on your arms, cutting into your forearms multiple times. He was stressed, it wasn’t his fault he says, it’s your fault for not getting better at using magic._

_More and more, sleep came to you harder as nightmares became relentless. Watching Pap do so with ease helped calm you. You became ready for the pain you’d experience later this way. You were….getting used to it._

Fight and add to Gaster’s scars, sleep. 

Remember Rose and push away Papyrus; _You landed multiple hits, and Gaster looked happy as he pulled out your soul….._

_You couldn’t even protect Rose, what makes you think it’d be different with Papyrus? You weren’t related, you never had an actual family. Why did it matter? You’re not cut out for anything other than hurting. Everything hurts in the end._

Fight and make Gaster mad, pass out for days.

Papyrus had gotten taller and asked why you’re hurt; _Papyrus reached barely below your ribs, a month ago he was at your hip. He worries,you tell him lies, you tell him jokes, for him stop pestering you because you’re busy. It’s better if he doesn’t find out, after all he likes Gaster. He wouldn't believe you if you told him Gaster was the reason you went into a small coma, Gaster has made sure the Papyrus saw him nicely._

Fight, eat, Gaster brushing up against you. 

Papyrus hates your jokes and you wonder your sanity; _Gaster was insane, violent, and absolutely batshit….but you grew to look forward to fighting him. If anything he was the one keeping you tethered to sanity and you hated it. His touch was more intimate lately after the beatings but you ~~couldn't~~ didn’t fight against it. Papyrus tried to heal you and you declined saying you deserved it . You wonder if Gaster was visiting Paps when you couldn’t. _

Fight, and win. Win? 

Meet the Royal Guard; _Gaster said you were ready, and you told him to fuck off but followed anyway. You feel nothing seeing the Dreemurrs and you didn't bat an eye at Chara sending glares your way. You didn’t falter at the other humans amongst the rank, you are sent off with them and Gaster lets them take you away. You're scared at first, the battlefield is ugly but you’re happy, happy that it’s you seeing it and not Papyrus. Mages are strong, but you’re stronger as you leave with only a small crack by your eye. You return after 2 months. Papyrus is taller and doesn’t recognize you at first. He also has a scar straight across his face._

_Papyrus has a scar. He has a scar and you know who gave it to him. Your magic never lied to you._

_You break. Gaster smiles jarringly wide when he sees you, and he finds amusement in the fact that your LV rose exponentially in such a short time; you don’t find it funny. He holds your body and traces down your spine like he used to. Papyrus is happy as well, but you don’t register his cheers or how his magic no longer felt like home._

_Gaster didn’t see it coming, the sharpened bone uprooting from your palm. Didn't as much scream as the bone went clean through his skull in a killing blow. You watch as he turns into dust and Papyrus cries as he attacks you._

_You knock him out and whisper sweet nothings to him._

_You tell the Queen and King that you disposed of Gaster because he was a traitor, consulting with the enemies. They don’t question you._

_Your eyelights are red and golden. You wonder where the pretty azure blue went._

_You’re given the position as the Judge, but in the end it means Executioner._

_Time passes faster than anticipated._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism is always welcome. I need feedback because I suck.


	4. The Reality of Abrupt Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War isn't pretty and you take a last stand. You end up in a basement and you don't do a good job in making people trust you.

King Asgore dubbed you the Judge, for your ability that far surpassed his and ability to see stats and decipher lies. 

You became an asset they didn’t want as an enemy. 

-

_Asgore was different from what your memory could supply._

_He didn’t look fluffy if that’s a good description._

_Him and Queen Toriel are enormous, sitting side by side on a throne. Clad in armor and royal garments, the Delta Rune is portrayed clearly, a sign of their position._

_Their fur a tad bit darker, eyes piercing and the magic they exude scream authority and respect. You don’t feel anything. Not even amazement, you feel strangely blank._

_Chara, age 13, the adopted prince sits next to Toriel in a smaller chair, cheeks and eyes red as they curiously regard you. They’re magically inclined, and the only human in the room. Asriel the first prince looks around the same age, seated next to Asgore, he’s scared of you._

_“Sans, where is Gaster? You both seemed close the last time I saw you. Why did you come here alone?” Asgore’s voice is booming, and resonates in the room._

_The guards on the side are at the ready._

_“he was conspiring against the crown, i exterminated him.” You don’t sound like yourself._

_You say it so detached and bluntly, you wonder if the disembodied voice is yours._

_Asgore stills, quietly absorbing the information. You know in your bones he won’t challenge you._

_Toriel looks disturbed, and Chara’s eyes light up with interest. Asriel...looks about ready to run._

_You don’t blame him._

_-_

You write down what is left of your memories in a book and revisit them whenever you feel lost. 

The humans outnumbered your kind by a lot. They were mercilessly pushing on your borders and insisting you all to relinquish control. You know what they want, they wanted to trap you all underground.

You weren’t going to let them if it was the last thing you’d do. You throw away mercy. 

Papyrus grew taller and still refused to listen to you. He doesn’t look at you and stays with the Dreemurrs while you go to the frontier. You manage to hold off the Humans a little longer. 

Every battle you enter is won, and when you can, you work on the magic technology Gaster hid from his kind. 

He had many secrets, and had plans to make an army through monster and human experimentation. You clean out the Lab and start anew. It feels good to destroy his workplace. 

You talk to Gerson by chance one day when you go out to the capital for rations, Papyrus is hungry. You were working on a way to produce magic food at faster rates. War strained food supply, and without magic food, soldiers are weak. 

The old turtle is known as the Hammer of Justice and you can tell he grows tired of war. You know he’d understand. You hoped he’d understand. 

You tell him about the pure rage you felt the first time after your first battle, the lack of control you had and how you broke down afterward. You choose to leave out the fact you killed Gaster. 

You don’t know why you tell him so much but you can’t stop yourself. Even if it’s a little, you want someone to hear you. 

-

_“My stars, how… how did this happen to someone so young?” Gersons eyes are tired and horrified._

_You wonder if you are a horrifying sight, you probably are._

_“war doesn’t stop for the young. you know this old man.” The words weigh heavily in your soul. It’d be okay, as long as it’s not Papyrus on the battlefield it’d be fine._

_You can handle it._

_-_

He explains you experienced what can only be described as a Frenzy. An enraged state that prolongs for around a month, only if a large amount of LV is gained in a short amount of time in a mentally unstable monster. 

He says that because of the pacifistic nature of monsters, it hasn’t happened in a century and ...he was sorry you had to go through it alone. 

You leave and break down at the Labs. You visit him occasionally to drink tea with him even if you prefer coffee. He calls you ‘little bones’ and you tell him you’re taller than him. He laughs and you chuckle. 

You lead the soldiers alongside Asgore. The mage of Kindness, Rickey, is an asshole but works to heal and protect soldiers. You like him. 

Chara annoys you whenever you visit, Asriel is scared of you and Papyrus’s eyelights carry resentment. 

Things change. You change. 

_Years 4-??, after Gaster’s death._

Each year Papyrus's distaste of you grows and you don’t have the energy to explain anything to him. You have things to do far more important. You learn to turn off your feelings. 

It’s hard for you to keep track of time. 

Papyrus is taller than you now, he’s blunt and rude. He can shortcut like Gaster and is best friends with resident trouble maker Undyne. You’re happy for him.

He gets sick and you take care of him for days. He says he loves you and you say it back. When he recovers he doesn't remember and his magic didn’t feel like home. 

You resume barely living, your soul is a bit dimmer. 

He notices when your LV grows, he feels it. 

But it doesn’t matter since you barely see him these days, you simply can’t because you enforce change to make the world better. It's for him but you just don’t want to fight anymore, you want to be with him even if he doesn’t want you to. You will help end this war. 

You develop magic enhancers, and monsters grow in strength.

You create a better food system that makes it easier for the populace to be supplied, food that adheres to humans and monsters. The morale increases. 

You replace the devices Gaster implanted onto you to stabilize your LV. It helps a little. 

The nation Adira attacks again, you kill a mage, and you learn she was the mage of bravery. You laughed because her soul is a beautiful bright clementine, and you’re jealous. 

You send back the body with the soul. Asgore isn't happy and you don’t care. 

-

_“JUDGE! You know we could’ve used her soul! HOW DARE YOU UNDERMINE MY AUTHORITY!!” Asgore yells, and the soldiers around you both stiffen and stare in fear._

_“i know. but she fought well, it’s respect.” You don’t think logically these days, and you walk right past him._

_“my kill, my decision Asgore.” He stiffens and time stops for a minute.  
Eventually what he sees in your eyelights make him nod, leaving in a huff._

_You think he’s grown tired of you. Good._

_The mages in the ranks all look thankful, you ignore them._

-

Following that battle out you kill the mages of Patience, and Integrity from Adira as well. You feel sick watching the light leave their eyes.

It was no wonder Adira’s forces grew weaker, numbers diminishing afterward. The nation was known for it’s mages not purely for it’s ability. 

You bury your men and return dust to the families, and people regard you in a different light. Soldiers incline their head down and move out of the way when you pass. 

Nickey thanks you as he cries over the body of a friend. He’s always been so quick to cry. 

_“i didn’t do anything yet. our fight isn’t over.”_

His green magic is like a warm blanket, and he nods resolute. He calls you bone daddy and you find it disturbing. You don’t correct him. 

Justice, Perseverance, and Determination of the large nation Libitina is all that’s left but they stand neutral.

The name Frisk sends fear through you and you hope genocide isn’t what the future holds. You hope your memory is wrong and Frisk isn’t capable enough to be a threat. 

Delta is the country you all establish around Ebott.

After implementing a more violent method of attack, monsters gain land and support. Adira stops attacking, counting their losses.

Perseverance switches sides, and her name is Constance, she helps in the labs and sets traps. She has soft long hair, sun kissed skin, and a problem with personal space.  
You punch her by accident when she gets too grabby and she cackles. You get her new glasses. 

Neighboring human nations either don’t interfere or see what you all can offer. But you believe it's because they’re scared, you’ve become well known. 

Papyrus goes behind your back and enters the royal guard along with Undyne. You fight him on it but in the end you know it’s his choice. You won’t ever force him to be anything he isn’t.

-

_He calls you a demon. A ruthless killer and you don’t say anything as you walk away._

_“do what you want Papyrus. i just hope you know what you’re walking into.”_

_-_

You’re scared, but you think things are starting to look up. 

_Years ????, after Gaster’s death._

Papyrus becomes the co-captain of the Royal Guard alongside Undyne. There’s a celebration and you become drunk and forget. Gaster haunts your dreams and curses you. 

You become best friends with Chara and gossip about Asriel. Rickey questions your anatomy while cooking eggs in the mornings. Constance lets you braid her hair as she reads. You remember how much you miss doing this for Rose.

You remember what it means to be happy, even if it’s for a short time. Even if it doesn’t last.

Papyrus found a hobby in shortcutting you to places at random and leaving. What he doesn’t know is that you panic each time, remembering Gaster. You get into an argument with each other, and nothing gets resolved.

He does it anyway, and it's easier to hide your fear because you love him. The fact that it’s him stiffles panic. 

A world war breaks loose after a period of peace. 

Frisk declares war on Delta, as the mage of Determination leading the nation of Libitina, the mage of Justice behind them. The nation Adira joins them in the assault. 

Delta pairs with the neighboring nations of Kemphry and the Republic of Om. 

You dub Alphys the official Royal Scientist and return to battle. The people see you as a figure of hope, and you don’t correct them. You’re painfully aware that they fear you all the more.

Justice leads an attack and you take a hit protecting Papyrus on the battlefield, almost dying. Papyrus looks at you differently but you don’t notice. 

Constance goes missing.

They send you her body and soul back, and you know deep down she didn’t say a word. Her hair is no longer soft. 

-

_You send out scouts for a month. No sign of Constance._

_People keep a good distance from you, Rickey doesn’t find your jokes funny and you get new books for her to read._

_When her body is found, along with her soul; you stare at her closed eyes, Rickey and Papyrus tear up, and Undyne is disturbed and angry._

_You show nothing and make a burial for her, Papyrus watches you and you tell him to fuck off._

_You wish you could cry for her, but you don’t want to. She didn’t die for nothing, you’ll make them pay. You’ll cry when it’s over._

-

Even though you knew Frisk would make a move, even though you expected it, things became worse and war ruined progress.

Asgore is killed on the field by Frisk, and they force you to retreat. 

The prince Asriel is assassinated by a traitor none too after, by a human that infiltrated your ranks. Chara becomes King of Delta.

You wish for a reset of some sort but you find that this Universe is just cruel like that.

Time continues and everything stays. 

-

_Now…_

You pulled on your black jacket, the tail split into two around your legs and the sleeves rugged, and ripped from the many times you fought in it. There's a Delta Rune symbol on the back in white. 

It was a wonder you didn’t just get a new one. But… it held too many memories, Toriel gave it to you. 

The official uniform of the Judge, black with yellow and purple accents looked less professional under it. You weren’t sure how to feel when you wore it, so the jacket helped disguise you. 

Setting everything into place, you noticed your hands. Rough and covered in so many scars that they no longer looked like delicate porcelain they once were. 

Unsightly and revolting...you quickly put on thick gloves. 

The capitol was empty as your boots thudded the ground. The guards let you through with ease as you walked towards the throne. 

“Howdy Sans, nice of you to visit.” 

Chara looked far older than one should look when they’re 28. Their hair is long, tangled underneath a crown that looks crooked. Their red eyes look blank and they lazily grip a tridon with ease, there’s no color in their face.

“kid, you literally summoned me here, and first of all what are you? a cowboy?” you deadpan, and they shoot you a glare and give you the middle finger. “I don’t know what a cowboy is but I resent that you ass.” 

You chuckle at their antics.

“i missed you too.”

The skies are dark, and no light enters the room. 

Chara’s magic smells of grief and your soul cries out towards the child before you. Chara was too young for all of this, they didn’t deserve this large of a burden. Their smile breaks and they tremble in a throne too big. 

“I don’t know how you do it Sans.” their voice is faint and shaky, “.....You’ve been fighting for us ever since I was 13. And yet… I became King for 6 months and I’m breaking down already. I never knew how horrible it was… fuck. Y’know when dad came home, he had the biggest smile every time so I didn’t bother asking. But….Sans! It’s a fucking nightmare!” Chara was now tearing their hair and you hugged them, it felt unnatural but this is all you can offer. 

A sign of trust. 

Sobs wracked their body as they settled in your arms, you gripped them harder, “I don’t want to see my people die Sans, I-I don’t want to see you get hurt e-even more. I c-can’t a-f-ford you leaving Sans. I’m s-so sick of this. Sh-shit Sans, I miss Azzy so much, m-my dad....I didn’t even get to say goodbye..”

It went on for hours, Chara crying, screams muffled by your uniform as you held them. You wanted to offer reprieve from their agony but you couldn’t, not when you stood next to them bearing the weight. 

You wondered when they’d break, you knew they were handling Asgore's and Asriel’s death far too well. You knew this was coming a long time ago. 

Seamlessly entering the role as a King, people called Chara heartless, cruel, selfish. But you knew better, you know everyone has a breaking point. It doesn’t mean they don’t feel or don’t care, they’re just that good at holding it in. 

You understood it all too well. 

Frisk attacked again that evening. 

You and Chara sent off to fight and they gave you a golden heart locket to wear. This time was different. Chara’s back looked strong and their magic intense, resolved. You held onto the last bit of hope you had, you sent one last smile to your friend. 

For Asgore, for Asriel, for Constance, for everyone... you hoped to end this. 

The air was dusty as you fought, your magic manifesting across your whole entire body you were sure you resembled a demon. A true monster. Every bit of bone across your body was reinforced, you looked like a Gaster Blaster in person. Sending waves on waves of bones towards the offending humans, you had no time to think. You let LV take you over as you fought to kill, blocking blows and pummeling whoever stood in your way.

But what kept you grounded was Papyrus, 20 meters away, you wouldn’t lose him. He would survive this. 

Eyelight’s blazing crimson and golden you continued your assault. Chara and Frisk faced off in the distance, and while Frisk was determined, magic thick and powerful, you knew Chara was stronger. Chara felt...Determined more than ever. It spoke of resolution and change. 

Your magic never lies to you. You feel content. 

But just as your claws reached for another, the world went dark. 

Then it was bright. Like a light switch. 

Your bloody fist hits metal instead of flesh. And a wave of steam hits your face and an small explosion sends you back. You put a guard up but the impact wasn’t as strong as you thought it’d be. 

It wasn’t even magic. 

What. The. Fuck. Disappointment has never been this colossal.

Everything is drastically different and it sends your sense into a fit. War turns into mechanical failure, the shift is too abrupt.The room you're in is filled with smoke, but resembles a basement of some sort. You see papers and tools haphazardly on the floor. The machine in front of you has a crater from where you hit. 

But most importantly, Papyrus lays on the ground unmoving next to it. You feel your soul stutter.

Instantly you check him, holding his body close. 

**Papyrus Serif**

**LV: 10**

**HP:400/550**

**Exp: 800**

***He’s tired, in need of a lot of sleep***

“thank fuck.” You exhaled a heavy sigh. He was fine, you were fine that’s all that matters. You just hoped Chara was alright, last thing you saw was that they held an upperhand, they’d be stupid not to keep it. Rickey was watching their back as well, and Undyne was more than enough thou-

The door slams open, and you tense. Gaster Blaster summoned, your magic only covers your arms as you hold Papyrus. In a moment, you fully believe you're hallucinating. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!!” Countless memories hit you like a brick. 

The screeching skeleton before you is Underfell Papyrus, and he’s mad when he looks at the machine behind you. It's almost funny how enraged he is. He looked exactly as you remember, _edgy_. You chuckle in disbelief. 

**Papyrus Serif**

**LV: 13**

**HP-**

You shook the information away, you didn’t care. What was happening? Are you dreaming? You’re starting to think your whole life is a joke. 

But one thing was important, you needed to get back. This was not happening now.

The battle wasn’t over yet. You feel numb in a way as your eyes blaze in leftover rage. You want to finish what you started. 

“HOW DARE YOU LAUGH AT THIS SITU-”

“yo, bro why are ya’ yellin- oh fuck! back the fuck away pap!” you jolt back to your senses, fell sans is now in the room as he pulls his Papyrus back with urgency. You feel a sinking feeling, and you know exactly why. 

Judge meets Judge. He checked your stats.

Bright red eyelights meet dark crimson laced with gold. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, maybe he has. You chuckle at the thought and he sweats. His gold tooth is a nice addition. 

“HOW DAR-”

He cuts off his Papyrus again, “we need to go **now**.” 

They shortcut away and you’re left stunned. 

Did he really just evacuate the premises because of you? Should you be flattered or insulted? You’re outright chuckling in shock as your cradle Papyrus. 

Laughter fades away as you breathe heavily, relaxing your magic as your arms revert to normal, activating the devices in your arms. You know how you look right now, you’re no fool. You’re covered in dust and blood and you have an LV that suggests genocide. 

Prioritize. You need to wake up Papyrus. 

Setting him down, you snap your fingers. “papyrus wake the fuck up.” 

He grumbles, and stays sleeping even as you shake him. “pap, pap wake up” He doesn’t and it’s disarming because he is notoriously a light sleeper, you feel a chill rush through you, “....pap...Papyrus! WAKE UP NOW!”  
  


In a second Papyrus’s hand shot at your face roughly, ouch. Glaring, he scrambles away. It’d be an amusing sight, if you weren’t sprawled on your back. Brat.

“SANS?! WHAT HAPPENED?”

He demands and you're relieved, you ignore his question. “look around pap.” 

And he does, and his light violet eyelights shrink even more and his hands summon a gaster blaster. It’s larger than yours, teeth longer, sharper and it’s eyes blink between purple and blue. 

“Were We Kidnapped?” His version of a whisper being normal volume. Heh.

“no. i think we’re in an alternate dimension.” No, you _know._ It’s almost laughable, wait...it is. 

Papyrus never seemed more disappointed as he waved away his magic. “Sans. This Isn’t the Time For Fucking Jokes!” He narrows his eyes accusingly and you sigh. 

“no, you’d know if i was joking, you idiot. just wait, our alternates should be-”

“hey buddy.”, “yo.”, “sup.”, “Wow.” Speak of the devil.

You tense so hard your teeth snap shut with a loud click. The newcomers appear by the door, shortcuts as always. Goddamn shortcuts. _He never used the door like a normal person._

“Holy shit! Red wasn’t lying when he said this guy was a fuckin’ killer. Damn.” The title makes you grit your teeth as tall, smoking and purple speaks, Swapfell Papyrus you’d guess. His voice is similar to Pap’s yet sharp, missing the loudness. 

“shut up Slim.” Orange hoodie says warningly, Swap Papyrus is quiet and cautious you note. His body language is rigid and voice deeper, softer. The differences in them are welcome, makes it more believable. You’re slightly shell shocked as you take in information. 

“told ya’ so.” ‘Red’s’ baritone snarled, still sweating as he caught your eye. You must’ve scared him, for him to get the cavalry. 

“fucking stars.” Mutters...original sans. Fuck. This was just...great. Oh man your head could take only so much. He sounds exactly as you thought he would, a variation of yours yet so distinct. This was definitely happening. This was happening. 

“OH MY STARS. SANS YOU WERENT FUCKING KIDDING.” Papyrus blurts out and they all eye him briefly but eyelights stay on you. 

Huh, concentrating on the biggest threat? Smart but not, Papyrus was just as deadly when needed…you knew better. 

You don’t answer him, attention on the skeletons choking down shock, “so you guys are gonna keep staring at me, or you gonna explain why we’re here? because if you don’t mind.” anger is clear in your voice, easier, “i have somewhere i need to be.” 

You couldn’t waste time, Chara needed you. 

But damn, was this really weird and an old dream come true. A dream that you needed to wake up from badly. 

Sans...it’s weird calling him by your name… Original takes charge. “no need, we just never expected...you.” Wow, smooth. 

“yeah, yeah, i _know_ ” you wave off and his eyelights travel to your rough clawed hands. You notice and shove them in your pockets fast. “you all made it painfully obvious.” 

“point taken buddy. you’re here because of that” he points to the machine that's sputtering and smoking, eyes lights gone, “...which is now broken.” you feel slightly bad. 

“FUCK.” Papyrus says instead, standing up and looking over the now piece of metal. “THIS...Is Just Great.” Original looks weirdly at Papyrus, probably the cursing. 

“fuck is right, _pal._ one of ya’s fucking impaled the shit.” Red said bitterly, the timber of his voice accusing. He knows the answer to his ‘implication’, after all moments ago he clearly saw Pap unconscious. 

You shrug and Papyrus glares rightfully at you. “it caught me mid swing. didn't get a chance to blink before my fist was in it.” 

“Shit...SO WHAT? WE’RE STUCK HERE?” Papyrus’s looks disturbed asking, stiff.

“yeah. if the machine brought us here, and it’s broken, then yeah. we’re stuck.” you say for them, voice disinterested and calm. You’re not calm, you’re not okay. _This_ wasn’t okay. 

You turn to Original expressionless. “how many more of us are there?” 

“THAT'S BEYOND THE POINT! DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THE GRAVITY OF THE SITUATION?” Papyrus looked enraged as he grabbed your jacket collar. He was always so mad at you. “WE NEED TO GET BACK! ITS NOT A FUCKING JO-“

“ **I know!”** He dropped you and stepped back. 

You continued, pained. “i know we can’t afford to waste time, but you know as much as me their machine is fucking busted. it’s gonna take time to fix, time we don’t have. so shut the fuck up because i _know_ Papyrus, so much more than you.” 

Silence was abundant, and you don’t care for the extra eyes on you. Not the fact that they looked scared for Papyrus at the moment. 

In a way, you knew the machine wasn’t going to be fixed. It wouldn’t send you back. But you tried to retain some hope that it could be fixed and used… but then again you were good at lying to yourself. 

This was hopeless, everything you accomplished was pointless. 

Just _focus_ on the moment at hand. You’ll think later. 

“well, anyway, good to know the multiverse theory is true.” nonchalant, you say this as if you didn’t know the entirety of your life that it was. You take out a spare pair of gloves, putting them on with practiced ease. You’re a good actor, keep it up.

Papyrus falters slightly before composing himself, the uniform on him makes him look broad and taller than everyone else, “AS MUCH AS THIS IS AN INCONVENIENCE, I HOPE YOU ALL CAN EXPLAIN FURTHER.” He directs this to Slim, the second tallest. It’s probably easier to look at a weird him then a version of you.

Slim just shrugs, “Everyone else ‘s waitin’ upstairs to welcome you guys to the club, although” his single purple eyelight looks at you, the air is hostile, “y’all don’t intend on getting violent, right?” 

You laugh, no wait it’s an all out cackle as you wipe sneaky golden tears. Wow. 

What a joy it was to have already been seen as a murderer. So many years you wished to be whisked away, and your own alternates already don’t trust you not to be ‘violent’. 

“don’t worry, Papyrus is as harmless as a fly. won’t hurt a soul.” you wave off between chuckles. 

“we meant yo-“ Red starts but surprisingly Papyrus interjects. 

“HE WON'T HURT ANYONE WITHOUT REASON…..” 

The words hang in the air and you eye him. He usually doesn’t- “AS LONG AS I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.” There he is. 

You sober up, humor dying. “i don’t intend on attacking anyone.” 

“good.” Is all Stretch says on the matter, “after you.”

He indicates the door and your soul sinks slightly. You really didn’t want to show them your back. 

Calm down, this isn’t the battlefield, no one is going to attack you. Suck it up and show it to them.

Stiffly you move, walking up stairs and leaving. It’s hard and your soul pulses in fear. They follow watching your every move, Papyrus follows after you and doesn’t get the same treatment but his presence grounds you. 

Their ‘house’ is beautiful. Reminds you of capital, the judgement hall and throne room being the only ‘extravagant’ things back in Delta. This resembled a mansion, hell it probably was a mansion. Papyrus must be just as bewildered but you refuse to look back. 

You follow the voices nearby, and you blankly enter a room. Eyelights draw to you instantaneously, you stride and lean against the nearest wall. You no longer feel defenseless and Papyrus stays nearby. He looks like a fish out of water. 

You decide to break the silence for him and you’re not proud of your next words. 

“howdy, name’s sans.” You curse Chara’s very existence, you always knew you hung around them for too long.   
  
Papyrus looks disturbed and you die a little inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never expected this much feedback, thank you all!! Please make sure to tell me what you think :)  
> Reader/Sans needs some sleep and a shit ton of therapy if you ask me. Also I hate ‘Howdy’ as a greeting...so it's great for making my character suffer.


	5. Shared laughs and an Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet the gang, or at least most of them. They fit your expectations, overprotective, some kind and some guarded. You don’t fit theirs and it’s obvious. Papyrus is just...trying to understand the situation in his own way; being a prick.

They all look at you with an expression that entails....incredulity, other’s caution. It’s a surreal experience. 

Confidence is a far cry from what you feel right now as the others settle into the room. There are couches and seats laid out but you keep a good distance, covering your back.

You hear someone mutter, “...howdy? seriously?” 

Cringing internally, you start sorely regretting hanging out with Chara as much as you did. 

They were _not_ a good influence. 

With you leaning on the wall, Papyrus awkwardly stands nearby; even if you're the last person he wants to see, you’re better than nothing against weird duplicates. Sticking close is the best call.

The room is nicer than anticipated, and _spacious._ The sunrise filters through the windows, and you note the doorway, an exit just in case. A kitchen and dining table towards the right in a different section, leading to another hall. There is also a grand stairway leading to another floor. The room is large along with a….tv by the couches, at least that what you think is. They’ve must’ve been situated for a while considering the personal effects laid out, and by stars you haven’t seen a game console in a while….what exactly does it do again?

They’re too many eyelights on you both, far more than what you’re comfortable with as of right now. You don’t have a clue which pair to look at. Although Red’s gold tooth looks particularly interesting.

“W-WELCOME OTHER SANS AND OTHER ME! I APOLOGIZE FOR OUR BROTHERS, THEY ARE DEFENSIVE DUE TO OUR PAST ENCOUNTERS THAT STARTED OFF….ON THE WRONG FOOT. BUT I ASSURE YOU THAT EVERYONE HERE IS FRIENDLY AND THINGS HAVE RESOLVED SINCE THEN!” Undertale Papyrus is loud as he greets you and you find comfort that you recognize his behavior and friendliness. Although he’s missing his battle body in favor of ‘regular’ clothes….looks comfy. You feel weird looking at him. Why do you recognize him? You don’t think you met him personally but you knew of his universe? Somehow you knew…..oh leave it. 

Once alone, you’d make quick work of revisiting your writings to remember. Your head hurt thinking about it. 

“I’M SURE YOU BOTH MUST BE TERRIBLY CONFUSED RIGHT NOW.” 

“no, not really.”, “YES, VERY.”

Papyrus glares at you, and you can only shrug. You’re fully aware of the situation….maybe a bit confused, but you didn’t want to admit it. Maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. Focus Sans. 

“...I’LL BE SURE TO CLEAR ANYTHING FOR YOU, BUT FIRST WOULD YOU LIKE A SEAT AND...ARE YOU BOTH ALRIGHT? IT SEEMS AS IF...YOU HAVE DUST ON YOU…” He trails off and Papyrus seems to become even stiffer than you’d thought possible. He doesn’t look at you. 

You realize then that you had the most dust and blood on your clothes. While blood isn’t obvious on black, dust is...unfortunately. 

Papyrus took a more...far distance and less deadly approach to fighting, not exactly in the thick of the chaos. This was his first war after all, close combat wasn’t in his comfort zone, being farsighted weirdly enough worked in that favor. Nevertheless dust was always in the air in battle. You were used to it, indifferent even. Him…not completely, maybe never. He was a good soul.

“no thanks, i prefer to be standing and don’t worry about the dust. it’s not ours.” You said as you try patting away some of the dust off. It’s a tricky thing to get out of clothes. The skeleton in front of you looks slightly more uncomfortable, and wrings his hands. Papyrus shoots you an enraged and horrified look but you don’t particularly care.

You don’t look at the rest but you feel tension rise.

“UH, WELL THAT IS… WELL...I’M GLAD YOU ARE BOTH IN GOOD HEALTH. AS YOU ALREADY KNOW, I’M GREAT PAPYRUS BUT YOU CAN CALL ME PAP FOR SHORT” thank stars for another thing to call him, “AND MY BROTHER SANS IS CALLED CLASSIC, WE ALL PICKED OUT NICKNAMES AS TO NOT GET CONFUSED.” Classic offers a small salute from the couch next to Pap.

Papyrus shifts slightly, looking confused at the new info and you disregard it. You hope he won’t start anything.

“I’M THE MAGNIFICENT BLUE AND THIS IS MY BROTHER STRETCH!” Swa- Blue jumps at the opportunity to introduce himself, Stretch just waves from behind him. 

For a moment you're caught off guard though, Blue’s eyes are a beautiful cyan. Bright, and you feel a loss for how you used to look like. Did you ever look like that? It’s a thought that is sudden and unwelcome. You strip your attention away instantly, and you feel slightly ashamed, a hot and uncomfortable _burn_ . Focus Sans. 

“I’M EDGE, THE ONE WHO FOUND BOTH OF YOU AND THIS WELP IS MY BROTHER, RED.” Edge looks muted, eyeing you with newfound….something. “I APOLOGIZE FOR HIS OVERREACTION EARLIER.” It’s a change with how he greeted you, that's for sure. The apology is surprising and completely subverts your expectations. 

Red looks as unnerved as ever and also eyes his brother for a second, he looks almost embarrassed.

“it’s fine, i _did_ destroy the machine so it wasn’t the best situation to walk into, and Red did the right thing, there was no overreaction.” 

Red’s interruption helped simper your LV in the moment, if anything you were thankful for it. 

Red looks startled at your admittance, Papyrus stiffening, it’d seem that he wasn’t too happy about you destroying the way back. 

Slim is next to speak. “Call me Slim, Killer. My bro Razz ain’t here tho so don’t get any ideas.” He says it almost teasingly and Blue and the others bristle immediately but you don’t notice. Scolding amongst them immerges but you tune them out. 

You really don’t like that nickname. _Killer. Killer. Killer. Why?_ You feel a familiar rage run through you, blazing and unrelenting. It’s almost funny how intense it is. 

_What does he know?_ **_He. Knows. Absolutely. Nothing._ **

**_Check the bastard._ **

**Papyrus Serif**

**LV: unimportant**

**_Don’t care. Dust him. Exterminate him. Fucking do i-_ **

Your hand automatically goes to your forearm, and with a trained click, you don't flinch as a surge of pain runs through you. You’re _present_ again.

The exhaustion is instant. Where the triangle device lays ingrained deep, bone throbs. You exhale slightly, it’s always been distressing to do this but necessary. You hope no one noticed. Coming straight from battle, magic was unstable, violent, trigger happy. Especially for you, especially when you use magic for violence. For once you’re thankful these were implanted into yo-

“I’M THE MARVELOUS BLACK.” says a put together skeleton in a suit, Fellswap your mind supplies. 

Black strolls into the room like he owns it. It’s as if he’s been there the whole time, waiting for a good opportunity to make himself known. There are 2 scars over his eye socket unlike the long singular one over Edge’s, you see a pattern in the skeletons before you yet the large differences. It’s jarring how you almost expected them at this point. They aren’t you.

“MUTT IS VERY BUSY AS OF RIGHT NOW, AS I AM. SO..” His eyelights are like knives as he strides to the main entrance, “I WILL BE SEEING YOU BOTH LATER.”

And just like that he leaves, the door slamming shut behind him. You concur that you like him and welcome the show he put on. Anything for a distraction. 

You also note that they let him leave. Good, at least they won’t keep you trapped forever, but it’s not as if you’ll let them _trap_ you. But you’d prefer to do things...civilized, this is their universe but you have a feeling it won’t be easy. Acclimation has never been your strong point. 

“SLIM APOLOGIZE!” Blue continues scolding and Slim smiles baring his sharp teeth, smug. “Sorry bucko.” It’s not at all sincere and if anything it’s painfully sarcastic.

You felt no anger, you were just tired as you stayed silent. 

“SORRY FOR SLIM AND BLACK.” Pap sighs, and you feel sympathy for him. “THAT WAS EVERYONE AVAILABLE RIGHT NOW, ALTHOUGH AXE AND ECHO, ANOTHER PAIR, ARE AT THEIR OWN CABIN NEARBY. THEY PREFER TO MEET YOU BOTH LATER...THEY ARE VERY NICE SO NO WORRIES!” someone chuckles, “NOW THAT WE GOT INTRODUCTIONS OUT OF THE WAY, WHAT WOULD YOU BOTH LIKE TO BE CALLED? JUST SO THERE’S NO CONFUSION.” Addressing you both, Pap’s polite and gives a _killer_ smile. Heh, jokes. But he’s obviously not happy with how the rest acted, you were thankful for the effort. 

Looking over them, they all seem really put off by you guys. You always did have a knack for making people...off kilter. Even back in Delta you weren’t best with making friends. 

“NICE TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE PAP.... I’LL TAKE THE NAME PYER.” Oh. “IT’S WHAT A FRIEND USED TO CALL ME.” Indeed, but what a cruel name it was. 

“heh never thought i’d hear that one again, call me Comic. it’s _also_ what an old friend called me.” There’s no bitterness in your words, just a reminder, Pyer spares an annoyed look.

“IT’S BETTER THAN BEING NAMED A COLOR THAT’S FOR SURE.” you actually laugh at that one, and you could feel Red’s anger. 

“so, finally we got names out of the way. how did this” you indicate the occupants in question and then yourself, “all come about?”

Classic, straightens up. “we think it was because some of us were working on the machine at the same time. i think because it was a simultaneous malfunction, it brought all of us together to my universe. me and my bro were the only ones on the surface at the time, so it might be because of that. we hypothesize that my machine became a magnet, and it started pulling others here even if they haven’t touched the machine in their respective universes. so far it’s been a big pain in the ass.” Classic explained, his permanent grin weary at the edges. 

“THAT IS...AN CONFUSING EXPLANATION FOR SOMETHING AS WEIRD AS THIS..” Pa-Pyer said in disbelief.

“yeh, i wouldn’t have fuckin’ believed it if I weren’t here now.” Red mutters, Classic and Stretch share looks of exhaustion. 

“SURFACE? SNOWDIN? WHERE WERE YOU ALL?” Pyer asks, and you feel weird because you know the answer. 

Why do you know the answer? When you never met these alters? The question shouldn’t bother you so much, you cross your arms disturbed. 

Red quirks an eyebone frowning, the rest perk up and Classic continues hesitant. “...were monsters trapped underneath Mt. Ebott in your universe?” 

“nope. we did suspect the Humans planned to trap us there initially, but we’ve gone to war to ensure they wouldn’t get the chance. although the underground, as you call it, is used for resources.” you explain recalling the first years of war and they all look surprised. 

“WAR?” Edge asks, serious. 

“yup, and for a while too. human magic is a hell of a weapon y’know.” You chuckle, and even to your ears it sounds forced. 

“MAGIC? HUMANS HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO USE MAGIC IN YEARS.” Pap says almost aghast and Blue's eyes look weirdly dim. Stretch just listens in, blank.

“ah, maybe not here. in my universe it’s very common. although some humans..are more skilled than others, but not all of them have it out for us. we have some human allies too. it’s not all black and white.”

“YES. WELL MOST IMPORTANTLY, WE AREN’T UNDERGROUND LIKE YOU ALL HAVE. WE LIVE IN DELTA, A NATION WE BUI-“

You interrupt him, “we? yeah, _sure_. anywho, we’re currently in a world war, so yeah i’d say what you think is ‘common knowledge’ ain’t so common for us.” 

Pyer stays silent, staring straight forward. It isn’t good to play around the truth. They all shift, ‘discreet’ looks being shared. 

Pap clears his throat, “W-WE HAD NO CLUE-“ 

“OF COURSE YOU DIDN’T. WE NEVER MET BEFORE THIS SO YOU HOLD NO BLAME.” Pyer strained, and sighs. “DON’T PITY US. YOU HAVE NO NEED TO.” 

You’d say this time is as good as any. You shake your head with a smile. 

“i’d pity us.” 

“SANS-“ 

“oh shut it, _Pyer_ was it? you should tell them how you so lovingly got that nickname huh?” The harshness in your voice is foreign and you feel unusually...angry. It’s the LV, calm dow-

Pyer did not like that. “OH FUCK YOU _COMIC_. LIKE YOU’RE ONE TO BITCH.” 

You shrug trying to calm yourself, looking back at the others. They all look immensely surprised and startled. 

Well let’s get on with it.

You stare back, expression taut. “how long has everyone been in this universe? have you been able to send a pair back so far?” 

Classic shakes his head, he looks tired as he starts. “no, it’s been 3 years and every time we fix the machine it malfunctions and brings another pair.” 

Pyer curses and you blank. “3 YEARS?”

“don’t even know why you’d want to go back.” you hear a voice say, but you don’t dwell on it. 

The atmosphere is harsh and your mind travels to Chara. You fiddle with the locket underneath your uniform, and emotions threaten to leave but you swallow them down. Pushing then down into the back of your consciousness. 

Chara will assume you got killed in action, leaving the country to them. Alone, amongst dust in the wind. If they even survived that is.

“thought so, just wanted a clarification.” your voice sounds flat.

“I’M SORRY FOR YOUR SITUATION, BUT IN THIS UNIVERSE MONSTERS WERE UNDERGROUND FOR A WHILE SINCE THE GREAT HUMAN AND MONSTER WAR. IT’S BEEN 6 YEARS SINCE WE LEFT WITH THE HELP OF OUR DEAR HUMAN AMBASSADOR AND FRIEND, FRISK. THERE IS NO WAR.”

Even your mind stutters at the name being spoken with such….love. Pyer lets out a choked noise to your left and his eyelights are gone. “FRISK?”

Classic sends him a look. “Frisk is the human that helped us break the barrier, and they now live with the Dreemurrs. good kid. ” he sounds cautious, almost like he was convincing himself.

You decide to speak before Pyer has a chance to. “good to know. don’t mind him, in our universe...Frisk is a mage of determination, a threat to monsterkind.” you smile in what you hope is reassuring….you’re not successful. 

“OH.” 

Awkward silence is heavy until Pap, the sweetheart, decides to break it. 

“YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR OF HERE, FRISK IS A GOOD HUMAN. AND NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE, WE'LL WORK THROUGH THIS TOGETHER FOR AS LONG AS IT TAKES!” Pap is resolute and his eyes blaze with promise. He’d be confused to hear you don’t care for safety, that you’d prefer a war torn world because that’s all you were, all you knew.

“I APPRECIATE IT, BUT ON OTHER HAND, IS THERE ANY SPECIFICS THAT WE NEED TO BE AWARE OF?” Pyer asks, a good change of tone from _war and Frisk._ “HOW IS THE SITUATION FOR MONSTERKIND IN THIS WORLD?”

“IT’S GOOD PYER, NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT!” Blue says, enthusiastic almost. “IN THIS UNIVERSE HUMANS ACCEPTED MONSTERS, SO EVERY MONSTER IS UNDER PROTECTION AND SEEN AS A CITIZEN. WE’LL HAVE TO REGISTER YOU FOR IDS, BUT SO DOES EVERY UNIDENTIFIED MONSTER. AFTER THAT WE CAN GO SIGHTSEE EVEN!” He might as well be screaming, ‘ _YOU’RE SAFE HERE!’._

“IN THE MEANTIME, YOU BOTH ARE WELCOME TO STAY HERE, WE HAVE PLENTY OF ROOMS.” Pap adds on.

“THAT’S NICE TO KNOW... ARE YOU” Pyer pointedly looks at Pap, “WELL OFF ENOUGH TO HOUSE ALL OF OUR ALTERNATES? THE LAST THING I WANT IS TO BE A...NUISANCE AND IN DEBT.” His passive aggression knows no limit. Seems as if his apprehension from earlier dissipated with the subject of money. It makes sense, but he could have more tact.

“don’t worry buddy, me and pap got this place in order to do exactly that. we’re well off, though if you have a problem with receiving, you can get jobs if you want. no one said anything about debts.” Classic says almost defensively. Cute. 

Pyer doesn’t look all that happy with the response but he complies,“OKAY, THAT’S REASONABLE.” 

“don’t expect anything crazy pal, in the meantime we can offer some of our clothes until you both get situated for now. then we can figure it out and go shopping.”

You pause at that, mulling over the idea of being reliant on them. With you stranded with no connections in this new universe, decidedly you have no choice. “thank you both for everything. it must be hard to handle so many versions all at once.” 

Classic looks shocked and Pap recovers from his and smiles sweetly. 

“NO PROBLEM COMIC!” 

“you’re welcome buddy.” 

They are kind, just as you expected.

“ALSO I HAVE A QUESTION.” Pyer says and you sigh.

“Shoot beansprout.” Slim says butting in, a new cigarette in between his teeth, blowing smoke in your direction. Blue and Pap scold him again.

You inhale, and you decide you like his ballsy behavior. You never got much back talk in Delta...from anyone other than Pyer. Plus it’s been a while since you smoked. 

“BEAN SPROUT? CLEVER…” He says sarcastic, Slim just shrugs taking a pull. Pyer looks constipated as he gets to the point, looking begrudging at Classic, “DO YOU HAVE A G-” 

“ **Papyrus.** ” you don’t sound yourself. He shuts his mouth, head whipping to you, eyelights sharp. 

Pyer glares at you and you stare back. “ **don’t**.”

It’s quiet for a moment and the others look at you two in confusion, but Classic has a look you recognize. 

It lasts for a moment but you win this round it seems. Pyer looks away with a frown. 

“DO YOU HAVE SOME MAGIC FOOD? I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A BATTLE WHEN ‘THIS’ HAPPENED. I BELIEVE MY HP IS LOW.” good save, relief is bad word for how you feel. 

“YES!! OF COURSE, WE HAVE PLENTY FROM LAST NIGHT’S DINNER.” Pap says, instantly beckoning Pyer to the kitchen. Blue looks happy at the premise of giving food, and he turns to you before following. “COMIC DO YOU NEED ANYTHING? I MADE TACOS!!” 

“no.” 

“O-OKAY, WE’LL BE QUICK.”

….

“what time is it?” You finally asked. You’ve been fighting Libitina forces since yesterday...you think.  
“just turned 7am.” Stretch said, taking out a phone. 

“oh. thanks.” Is all you say, and everyone looks to be at a loss for words to say. You want to sink into the floor in awkwardness.

“Wow, that shit has to be the stalest interaction yet.” Slim said, holding in laughter. 

“ughh, always got something ta’ say.” Red says slumping in his seat. 

“well this meeting was abrupt, i didn’t have time to get a list of conversation starters.” You say patting yourself down once more before approaching the group.

They all stiffen and the magic in the air intensifies. You take the seat farthest from them, the couch is irresistibly soft. You refuse to relax though. “just taking a seat. i know i said i liked standing but tibia honest i’m kinda tired.” 

The magic diffuses slightly, still present. Edge’s face becomes murderous and the rest chuckle, you enjoy the nyehs from stretch and slim the most. You wonder when you last heard Pa-Pyer laugh. Since he was young that’s for sure, or drunk. 

“HERE I THOUGHT I’D BE FREE FROM THOSE INSUFFERABLE PUNS FOR ONCE.” You chuckle, and shrug. Resting your elbows on your knees. 

“dunno what to say, got to keep humor one way or another. it’s the pun-ishment for war.” Red and Slim widely grin at that one. 

Edge just shakes his head, groaning while Stretch and Classic turn somber, soft chuckles but obviously taking the meaning of the joke to heart. 

You decide you like the company of people who can enjoy puns, it’s hard to not. _Ro..s...loved puns._ You shake away the disfigured thought. 

You look straight at Edge, a stiff skeleton he is, “come on, it’s to take the edge off” you add a wink to end it. His eye lights blink out and his hand digs into the seat. Red’s eyes light up.

“for a comic, that was bit of a stretch.” Stretch says, a honey bottle materializing in his hand. Where’d he-

Classic joins instantly, “i don’t know about that Stretch, i think it was a classic.” 

“Oi, it _was_ rather humerus.” Slim says, Red chuckling out “now yer’ patelling me lies.” 

“stretch is right, wasn’t even punny.” you say face tone stern. 

It’s silent as they stop, but then like a dam you all break out laughing. It was so bad but good. The air is lighter and you are past relieved as you chuckle into the air. “THIS IS...HORRIBLE.” You sneak a peek at said skeleton. 

Edge’s face is set into a look of pure unsatisfaction and his face is covered slightly crimson as he glares. You knew that look anywhere, he liked it.

You’re hysterical now. “you know you liked it Edgelord.” 

Like a nail in a coffin, he screeches, charging out of the room with a “SHUT UP COMIC.”

If anything it makes it funnier. 

“he thinks it’s _comical.”_

 _“_ Oh shit.” Slim mutters, basically breaking his cigarette in half in his jaws. You chuckle at the sight, crossing your arms. It almost felt natural to share such dumb jokes. 

But the light atmosphere simpers down with the exit of Edge, and you sigh tired. It’s rather quiet now that the puns have come to a stop.

“it’s good to know you’re a man of culture.” Classic says lazily grinning, but you can tell. Tell that no one really let their guards down. Puns were all fun but just a form of procrastination. You were smarter than that.

“i know you have questions.” straight to point, like a bandage. 

Red bristles, eyelights small, “what makes you say that, huh?” 

You lean forward, and you notice his sweat. “it’s not everyday you meet someone like me.” 

“what do you mean?” Stretch says, and his grip on the honey looks harsh, Classic’s eyelights are pinpricks betraying his poker face.

You laugh, and you feel lightheaded. “someone with 19 LV.”

The statement hangs in the air like a noose and they halt in their places. You see it now, their permeating nervousness around you. Even laughing they would twitch if you made a sudden movement, like an animal. You’d guess that the only reason they held back from spitting accusations was Papyrus and Blue. They simply didn’t expect your onslaught of puns. 

Classic looks nervous, even Slim is silent trying to keep composed. The magic is almost...defensive. **Cute.**

You exhale, “when i said war, i meant it. Pyer has only been in the war we’re in currently, but this is my second one, i’ve been acting as the judge, jury and executioner on and outside the battlefield. i’m not about to spill my guts to you guys, but you don’t have to worry. i don’t intend to hurt anyone, i can control myself.”

“can you promise?” Classic asks, and he’s sincere. It’s surprising but you know deep down what it entails. Promises were not taken lightly. How predictable they are with their protectiveness. 

You stare deep in his white eyelights, and you take in every detail, down to the strain of his grin to the slight waver in his hand. The stark contrast. 

“i promise not to hurt anyone in this universe, the same goes for you and everyone else. like i said, i can control my LV. believe it or not, we’ll see.”

It’s silent for a moment before the skeletons sit back slightly within their respective seats, the assurance is probably all they wanted the moment they met you. But it wasn’t over yet. 

“WHAT ARE YOU ALL TALKING ABOUT?” Blue basically screams entering with Pap and the silence is broken, plastered faces slotted back on. Pyer raises his eye bone at you, most likely noticing your change in location and the environment. You wink, and he looks away. His HP is full now. You spot Edge silently watching in the doorway, must’ve heard everything, 

“nothing much bro.” Stretch says, and Blue smiles but the twinkle in his eyelights says more. Perceptive. 

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHECK THE ROOMS OUT NOW?” Pap says and you get up. 

“sure.” yes please. 

The mansion is large and his long legs climb multiple stairs with ease. You and Pyer follow behind, but you don’t talk. He’s tense like a tree, and you can tell he’s waiting for a moment alone to break. 

You tune out both Pap and Blue as he points out multiple rooms, noting only who stayed where. You take the attic once it’s mentioned and Pyer picks one at the end of the hall, not even bothering to look. They are both far away from each other. The other skeletons looks weirdly at you both for it but neither phased you. 

“IS THAT ALL?” Pyer says, fists clenched so hard you want to laugh. 

“YES PYER, PLEASE TELL US IF YOU NEED ANYTHING! WE’LL LET YOU BOTH BE!” Blue says, understanding as he walks back out with Pap. They must’ve picked up on Pyer’s impatience. 

You both wait until you can no longer hear their steps, and in an instance Pyer grabs your arm. You freeze up and for a moment you're falling. It is suffocating, empty and gone in a second. 

You blink away the darkness and clutch onto whatever wits you can. You’re in Pyer’s new room, you feel yourself grinding your teeth hard. It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s only Papyrus, he won’t hurt you. Calm. Calm. Cal-

“I DON’T APPRECIATE YOU INTERRUPTING ME EARLIER SANS.” He’s abrasive in the way he always is. 

You laugh, breathlessly. This guy, the audacity. 

Anger is quick to replace panic. “you know exactly why i interrupted you Papyrus.” 

“IT WAS A REASONABLE QUES-” Papyrus starts, but you’re quick to interrupt him again. 

“now is not the time, and either way, he’s not here.” 

His eyes narrow and his purple eyelights sharpen, darker. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN.”

“he’s not here.” 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN SANS? HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW IN THE FIRST PLACE?”

Your voice catches in your throat, and you the remnants of panic travel across your bone, on the verge of leaking. Like a bug crawling on your back. Papyrus towers over you and he shadows your form. You laugh, “i know how his magic feels like, he’s not here.” 

“THAT-” 

“Papyrus, i _know_ how his magic feels, stop asking already. let it go.” It’s starting to get real old. **Stop.**

When did it become like this? 

“FINE, BUT WHAT DO WE DO NOW? YOU SAW THAT MACHINE, IS IT REALLY THAT COMPLEX?” You did, and even if Papyrus hated the situation, he knew what was important. Not Gaster, not the alternates, the way back.

You saw the machine clearly, the thing was ruined and the circuitry fried. You’d have a better chance normally, but that was only the case in your universe. It could take a month, even a year for all you know. It’d depend on the tech here, and whether or not the machinery was even capable of being controlled. 

“yes. i don’t know our chances but we have to deal with our situation for now, it’ll take time. just try to be nice to our alters.” it’s funny you’re the one saying it. 

“Fuck.” he looks pained as he contemplates his next question, “DO YOU THINK THEY WERE SUCCESSFUL?” You know who ‘they’ were. 

Your soul pulsed in anxiety, fear, you swallowed it down. “Chara is strong, we took down a lot of heads before coming here, their forces are strong but we have the upper hand, both in numbers and strategy. don’t think too much about it, they’ll be fine.” 

He nodded, and you weren’t sure if you were that sure or trying to convince him and yourself, “I WASN’T WORRIED.” Lie. “UNDYNE KNOWS WHAT TO DO IN MY STEAD IN ANY CASE... WHILE THIS WHOLE PREMISE IS UNBELIEVABLE, YOU ARE...RIGHT. WE JUST HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.” 

You desperately want to hug him, tell him it’ll be fine but you can’t trust yourself. 

“guess you’ll have to sleep it off. ask for some clothes and i’ll do the same.” You’re quick to turn tail and leave. 

There is a harsh grip on your wrist in a second. Your head turns with a sharp click and your eyes blaze red. Panic seizes your sight and you rip your hand back. 

Papyrus looks shocked and horrified as he stares at his own hand. His expression melts into a glare, stone like, he withdraws. 

You stare at each other and the air is icey. You open the door and close it without looking back, guilty.

Boots tap on wood floors. Passing doors you don’t recognize, the air is clear. The door leads to steps to another door. It clicks shut behind you and like being cut from strings you fall to your knees. Everything comes crashing down. 

The uniform and jacket feel heavy, dirty and tight. Your own body betrays you and you feel like a passenger, an invader. The magic that courses and thrums in you like clockwork is violent, sad, and cruel. 

Your forearms burn like a wildfire, but you can’t experience such sensation. Unlike flesh under heat, you don’t blister nor burn. But it’s all the same.

There's dust still caked on your clothes, it’s obvious. If you had lungs you could breathe it in. Taste it on your tongue, the roof of your mouth and stuck in between your teeth. 

Your heart would beat like a drum, rapid. Sweat would be excreted by skin. Muscles lock up and cramp. 

It’s missing. Your magic thrashes in your clutch, weak and volatile. This was all wrong. 

You exhale and you clutch at the bulky uniform, you feel everything. The magic in your skull, manifesting as lights and festering. The dust falling between bones, every crevice that acts as a scar. The soul in your chest, settled there. 

It’s all too much. It was too sudden. You were so close. To end it all. Wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair… You weren’t meant to be here, in this nice universe. You were no longer...good, now a stain and that’s why you could understand their hesitation. They shouldn’t trust you. 

But you felt even more guilt that you didn’t want it to end. A sick fluttering feeling of want. A want for more, past pain and death. You didn’t want to go back which was far worse.

Not only that, your head..something was missing. Your memories were once again a haze, there but inaccessible. The book. You have to remember. You have to, it’ll help.

You pat yourself down frantically. Reaching in your pockets for the small leather notebook. You remember clearly carrying it. You never forgot it. 

Right inner pocket. There, you thrust your hand into your jacket but no, nothing…..that’s wrong. You pull your jacket off and make quick work of checking the pockets...no no no. 

You feel across your uniform, the plating and designs being all you feel. The pants you had on were empty, with the exception of some monster candies you carried just in case. Nothing. 

You heaved, trembling like a leaf. It wasn’t possible. You-You..

You didn’t have your book. Which could only mean one thing...it was left behind. It could only be found in the very universe you were ripped from. 

“no…” 

Calm. Down. Calm Down. Think. List. Remember. 

Your name is Sans. Papyrus is alive. Gaster is dead. Chara is King. Asriel is dead. Constance is dead. Is Chara dead? No. Not yet. Who? Remember, the...girl. 

The girl. Yes that’s right. She’s..a flower. Green at the stems...green eyes. Red, like blood. Red like a…Rose. Yes, Rose. Frail, weak but strong. She liked jokes. Yes. She’s dead. 

You shakily breathe in her memory, a faint image, it’s comforting. It felt like home and sorrow. A lost frame stuck in time. 

It’s okay. It’s okay. You were okay. 

What other things do you know? You know of the universes, pairs of you and Papyrus, different yet with a founding base. 

Undertale, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, FellSwap...another yet to be named but considering the name Axe you’d think Horrortale. The names and images come easily, you can already see how they match up with those you met today. Your universe...didn’t. It was accursed, diverging from the normal base. Was that good? Did the world make you suffer on purpose? 

You sigh shakily and you look at the tremble in your gloved hands. “a joke, that’s what this is.” 

Mustering what’s left of your rigid thought process you wish, to the past you left behind. _Rose._ She’d tell you to stop, calm down and breathe. You force yourself to inhale and everything becomes a bit clearer as it goes on. 

You get up but as you do the locket underneath your uniform moves, feeling heavy against your chest. Your hand automatically gravitates towards it. Taking out from under your uniform, you look at the small golden heart. You open it. 

Your eye lights illuminate the picture in its glow, and your magic smoothens at the sight. 

It’s everyone.

A group picture taken at the birthday party for Chara, they took advantage of their position to make everyone participate. You’d think they were getting married, the prick.

They turned 19 that day you think. Alphys has Undyne's arm slung over her and she looks truly whipped. Chara is sitting down in front, smiling abnormally wide in between Ricky and Asriel. They look like messes. The King and Queen look out of place in the back. Towering but they look content, small smiles that reach their eyes. Constance has her hair out, curly and she looks healthy. Her glasses are upside down. Papyrus has a wide smile and his collar shirt is wide open. Drunk but happy to the right of Undyne. 

You see yourself but you don’t recognize the person. 

You look...so happy. You’re holding Papyrus’s hand and you don’t think he noticed. Your eyes don’t look crimson. They look azure, like home. 

You shudder and close the locket. You hold the small thing close and for once. 

Tears fall before you know it. Before you can stop it. 

You look down at the golden tears littering the dirty attic floor. One by one, dropping even though you didn’t want them to. You never thought it’d be like this. In another universe, alone and scared for what was to come. You thought it’d be in the battlefield amongst what was left of those you cared about, triumphant and free of the never ending war. 

You cry. Cry for Constance, Asriel, Asgore..Cry for the dead. The living. The war that ended, at least for you. For now you’d leave it in Chara’s hand but it doesn’t stop the hurt. 

The world has never felt so cruel, dark and...free as it does right now. But in the end you’re alone. 

You wish for someone to end it.

***but nobody came***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while and I still feel unsure about this chapter but I hope you enjoy it!  
> Sans is definitely not taking universe jumping well.  
> -  
> I made a Tumblr under @sansarion if you want to ask me questions or anything else. I plan on uploading my Undertale art if you’re interested.


	6. Fear of the Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spaghetti out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long ass time I decide to update....I’m so sorry for the wait. I’ve had a lot of shit going on and this draft has been just sitting. I don’t really like it but I hope it’s good for now.

Edge woke up early, earlier than most. That day specifically he woke earlier than desired and for some reason, could not go back to sleep. It annoyed him to no end because any other day, it'd be fine if not for the underlying unease in his bones. The danger looming in on him. 

He was restless but he knew it had nothing to do with his housemates. Yes, while Axe was the biggest threat, Edge learned a while back that was not case. At least not anymore. Plus Axe was settled in his nice cottage with Echo. It wasn’t him, but who else?

Why was his soul so uneasy? 

He checked the time and the bleary number of 4:00 AM greeted him. Wasn’t too bad then, the others who were more punctual would wake in an hour or so. Annoyed, the feeling continued bothering him.

A feeling he's grown unfamiliar with in this universe, a universe he had nothing to truly fear. So why was it present?

He tried to occupy himself in the meantime. Leaving the mansion, he scouted the area out of habit. Nothing out of the ordinary, no foreign magic signatures and _still_ the agitation didn’t relent. 

Standing in the clearing by the mansion he stood stumped, clad in his usual clothes and scarf, the early morning cold passed by.  
Maybe it was his LV then, although he _thought_ he was better at handling it these days, maybe he just had to let it out. Expel some magic and release some tension.

Practicing, exhausted he realized it didn’t quell anything. Frustrated wasn’t even close to what he felt at the revelation.  
  
Angry he sent more bones towards the trees and let his LV seep into his actions. 

The magic in his reserves were low by the time he came back, and he could hear the less lazy skeletons wake, the rustle and the sounds of their steps alerting him.  
Did they still feel nothing? Edge sighed in exasperation. 

It was a good thing he didn’t have anything import- He jolted at the faint sound of a crash, muffled by the floor. Everyone else was upstairs, so there was no way they heard. It came...from the basement. The machine. 

Instantly he went into motion, maybe a bit too excited in his movements. Slamming the door open to see the source; a mistake he’d hate himself for making, but his frustration made his judgement clouded in the moment. Looking down the steps, the sight before him promptly made him lose his cool. 

The room was filled with smoke and the air thrummed with magic. There was Blaster aimed towards him and yet the words left his mouth without fault. Another pair, and _this_ pair broke the fucking machine. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!!”

Edge wasn’t a genius like Red, sure he was well versed in traps and combat, but he was not averse to the science behind such tech. _But_. He knew broken when he saw it. The thing had a gaping hole in it, sputtering and smoking up the room. 

The skeleton, another of his brother's counterparts held another Papyrus in his hands. But his appearance was rough, a large crack by his left socket, on his nasal cavity, and cheek. Crimson eyelights outlined with gold stared at him, widened in surprise, they were unlike what he’s seen before. The skeleton looked at Edge like he was the funniest show he has ever seen. He dared to chuckle. 

How dare he! Did he even know what he just did to their progress? 

While Edge didn’t care much for returning, it was still a priority for the damned machine to work. “HOW DARE YOU LAUGH AT THIS SITU-”

“yo, bro why are ya’ yellin- oh _fuck_! back the fuck away pap!” What? 

Red was pulling him back before he could object, and stood in front of him like some sort of guard dog. What in the hell? He hasn’t seen Red this flustered in a while. He should know by now, that Edge was far more capable with handling threats. He was well aware of the dust on their clothes, he wasn’t defenseless nor dumb, “HOW DAR-” 

“we need to go **now**.” 

He was falling into the sensation he knew as a shortcut before he knew it, a weird and annoying feeling of weightlessness and disbelonging. His feet hit ground just as quick. 

If Red was this desperate to use a shortcut on _him_ of all people. He must’ve seen something. 

“damn, boss-” 

“WHAT WAS THEIR LEVEL?” 

Red was sweating and fidgeting like he always did, his grin was strained and Edge felt a stab of worry for him. “19.” 

19... _19.Oh_ . _OH_ . That’s high, _very_ high. “ARE YOU SURE?” 

“yep, i saw what i saw.” 

“TELL CLASSIC. I’LL ROUND UP THE REST, YOU CAN EXPLAIN OUR...CURRENT PREDICAMENT.” 

….

Edge really wasn’t in the mood for this bullshit. Black didn’t care for the meeting; being pressed for time for his clients, Mutt was working overnight uptil now, and Razz the crackhead was nowhere to be seen. The Cottage skeletons didn’t want to come, Echo wanting time to psyche up. That one he understood. 

Classic made Red, Slim, and Stretch go down there with him. It was overkill, didn’t they learn not to overwhelm a stranger with a high LV? He’d think the first meeting with him and his brother was enough of an answer. They didn’t even tell the others why. 

They were scared and he knew it, but they were secretive bastards. They acted somewhat like this with Echoe and Axe, although Slim wasn’t here for the starving brothers to make an entrance. But they were never this high strung. 

It’s been 3 long years since he and his brother were taken away from their hell of a universe to this one. 3 years of getting to know...softer versions and crueler versions of himself and Sans.

He was the captain of the Royal Guard, and the world he grew up in was kill or be killed. It was cruel, but no matter what change he tried to enforce, dust spilled everyday. It was bleak and they were slowly breaking. But he held onto the little hope he had, that..things could be fixed. 

But, even now he expects to wake up and see his old room. Dust scattered amongst snow and no sky, no stars. Yet he’s still here. 

It was a sudden shift and violent one. Him and Red went straight on the offensive with the sight of their alternates, Stretch and Blue were confused and shocked, not a good match up. It was chaos, screams and demands were thrown and admittedly, it took awhile for him to understand their situation. 

He rather likes his current situation, even if he refuses to admit to that to the rest. But..it was more complicated than that. 

He understood their reactions either way. 

In the underground the higher the LV, the more respect you get. The higher you were amongst ranks. 

If this ‘sans’ were to come to his universe, he could’ve very well overthrown Asgore, or simply dust a boss monster in one or two hits with intent. 

Edge felt a deep feeling of respect for the monster, that and _fear_. LV made a monster crazy the more they obtained. He was sure it applied to humans as well. 

LV growth is like a parasite, feeding off of your sanity. How the monster in the basement didn’t attack out right was a miracle, a show of control.

If he had that much...he probably would’ve killed Stretch and Blue the day he met them.

He’d be...He doesn’t know, and doesn’t want to. 

-

Slim was fully aware he had no filter, and that his sense of self preservation was absolute shit today. Nothing different.

And Slim was not freaking out. He wasn’t nervous or tense. He was completely fine, smug even. The fact that Razz is nowhere to be seen doesn't bother him...At least that’s what he hopes they all think. When Red told him that the new Sans had an LV of 19, he needed to see for sure.

It didn’t register until the numbers blared in his sight.

**Sans Comic Serif**

**LV: 19**

**HP: 1**

**EXP: 1,930**

***tired and aware***

“Wow.” Was the word that escaped him, his housemates sharing the sentiment. No wonder the machine was K'OD.

He did not expect that. Not only were they extremely weird stats, but his hp...why was it at 1 even though he had so much LV? What did ‘aware’ mean? Definitely the weirdest monster he’d seen yet and the most _dangerous._

The sudden knowledge, clear in front of him, sent the familiar feeling of..cold through Slim.  
Ignoring the vague check and their hp; the cruel number 19 sent pure chills into Slim, down to his deepest core. 

The type of chill that came with unpredictable variables. One he didn’t like. Not one bit.

Hell even now he still felt on edge around Axe even if he was ‘reformed’. It wasn't personal, not at all. By now, he’s grown to somewhat like and tolerate everyone who got stranded alongside him, but there was always going to be an unspoken hierarchy implanted in their mind’s eye. Irrefutably established between them all. 

To universes like his, Black’s and Red’s the presence of someone whose LV is higher, is always a threat. And now Axe was the highest no longer. 17 meet 19. The difference may be meager in some eyes, but in terms of LV….the jump is eminent and immense. To Slim it's everything between a sliver of a chance, and no chance at all. 

Against this guy all out... there's none. One hit is all that it'd take to become dust. 

Slim wasn’t a ‘coward’ nor did he judge based on LV...but this skeleton was on a whole different yard from the rest. Another playing field. Judging was natural, instinct.

The new player couldn't be ignored, whether out of survival instinct or due to ingrained cautiousness. 

Maybe that's why in the heat of the realization, Slim spoke without a thought, “Holy shit! Red wasn’t lying when he said this guy was a fuckin’ killer. _Damn_.” He never _did_ have a filter.

The unnerving thought of... _He can dust me and Sans if he wanted to…._ kept repeating in his skull. Not unlike how he thought as he paraded in the underground, a perfect target until attacked. Snarky words and shock coming up to defend as always. _Bluffing_.

But hey he wasn’t wrong in his word choice. To get to that point of LOVE, the skeleton before him had a shit ton of dust and blood on his hands. 

"OH MY STARS. SANS YOU WERENT FUCKING KIDDING." Now, he should’ve expected the loudness from the new Papyrus, but he couldn't account for the cursing nor his appearance. Maybe he's grown used to Pap and Echo, but it was just another things to note. This one being almost as tall as Echo, but not spindly. Clad in some type of uniform like his Sans, minus the cool jacket, this version has a jagged scar across his face and light purple eyelights.

Keeping a good distance from everyone, even his sans.

 **LV:10** _Good._

Slim continued to keep his eye on the biggest threat. He noted that this Sans was also taller than usual, almost close to Axe’s height but not bulky. Still, quite puny like all of them, looking more miltaristic like Black and Razz did, maybe they were in the Royal Guard of some sort. Uniformed. 

One thing that he could see was that they both looked like they left hell. The San's hands were evidence enough, marred with a shit ton of scars. Scars he’s quick to glove right up, which is a shame; they’d be considered trophies back in his universe.

And as Slim continued to learn, watching how they behaved and interacted was...informative and disconcerting.

They held a type of urgency for the entirety of the conversation, _but_ what was most confusing was that...this pair acted like they hated each other.

Sure not everyone in the mansion had ideal relationships, but even Mutt and Black were...protective of each other? In their own unique way. Either way, seeing the Papyrus lash out at his Sans indifference was unusual, in the mere fact of how it carried a certain type of...detachment. He didn’t need eyesight in 2 sockets to see it. 

The Papyrus even looked..scared after his Sans told him off. Even Slim felt off about that, but the Sans was quick to calm, as if nothing happened. Eyes tired, and lidded. Back to a facade of nonchalance, way too easily, as if this was normal between them. In all, it just felt _off_. 

But it wasn't Slim’s problem, but this would definitely set off most of them, especially if Creampuff had anything to say about it. _But_...Whatever they were in the middle of before must be important if it warranted such reactions. If the dust on them said anything. _A fight?_

“AS MUCH AS THIS IS AN INCONVENIENCE, I HOPE YOU ALL CAN EXPLAIN FURTHER.” Oh, the Papyrus is talking to him.

Alright time to test the waters. “Everyone else ‘s waitin’ upstairs to welcome you guys to the club, although” he eyes the Sans, and his magic is hostile for authenticity, “y’all don’t intend on getting violent, right?”  
He smiles wide as he always does. It's sounds funny coming from himself, and he knows Classic doesn't expect it. 

The Sans laughs. Which is something he did not expect, and Slim finds his own smile twitching in its place.  
The skeleton in question wiping away golden tears away from under his eye sockets as he cackles out loud, as if Slim told the best joke of the year. It answers nothing but put Slim on edge. 

The skeleton even jokes in return and the Papyrus is quick to defend him...or reassure them he has it covered. What can a monster with 10 LV do against one with 19? More than enough, in this case considering their dynamic.  
Slim wonders if the Papyrus _can_ help if it does come to _that._

“after you.” Stretch says, following up with another test; great minds think alike after all.

Even Slim feels sorry for the guy, showing your back is uncomfortable for most of them, a vulnerable state. Been there, done that.

The plan though, doesn't work out as the Papyrus is right behind his Sans, his figure acting like a guard. Up the stairs the skeleton’s back is wide and covers the sight of the Sans. Maybe they’re not as irredeemable as he thought, but what does he know? It's really none of his business. 

….. 

“howdy, name’s sans.” Slim can’t get a proper read and he almost breaks his cigarette choking back a snicker. Howdy? Classic actually twitches and Slim can’t fight a smile. What a first impression, Edgelord looking like he ate something sour. 

The Sans is awfully unbothered by dust and the Papyrus looks ashamed. Huh. Desentizied and not so much, Slim guesses the Sans is the older in the relationship, by proxy the judge, and the Papyrus the younger. A common pattern in dynamics Slim has seen shown true across universe. This pair's universe? Not vanilla at all it would seem, but that could be assumed from the scars even without the dust caking them. 

The introductions start as usual, and the same spiel repeats. Dumb nicknames filling in. Same thing he and Razz went through last time, and ultimately it’s his turn to do the same. 

“Call me Slim, Killer. My bro Razz ain’t here tho so don’t get any ideas.” He says in a joking manner, and he really doesn’t mean anything through the use of the word 'killer', himself being one as well. He just calls it how he sees it. Why be afraid to admit it, if it’s obvious?

But the skeleton doesn't know that, because instantly something in the skeleton eyelights changes. Becoming crimson, that gold almost disappears overrun. Slim doesn’t move even as Blue scolds him. His magic thrums unsteady and at the ready. His body tensing unlike how it hasn't in a while. 

It’s a wave of dread before it’s gone like a snap, a warning. What was that? 

Slim knew the other skeleton must've done something to stop himself, if the barely noticable slump in his shoulders was anything after he touched his forearm. But it only leaves more unanswered, leaving Slim himself more intrigued and even more cautious than before. 

“SLIM APOLOGIZE!!” Blue, ever so demanding, almost makes Slim jump in his haze. 

“Sorry bucko.” He apologizes with the least amount of sincerity he can muster, smiling wide. He’s not really sorry after all, rather he’s pretty smug in his observations.

And after all of that he finally has a name for their scarred faces. _Pyer and Comic._ Even after all all the complicated things these two bring to the table, Slim's faded mind gets turns on it's head with teh next topic.Their universe, and things begin to make a bit more sense.

It still takes him a while to understand, being the first pair to be on the surface for one. And..the first to be in _a_ war. 

_A World War_. 

War was an abstract concept to him, always a degree separate. For sure in the underground it was a war for survival so in a way he could understand but _world war_ was another magnitude that he couldn’t comprehend.

These skeletons were not talking about the constant fight to gain the upper hand amongst a race in cramped quarters. No. They were communicating the idea of conflict between _nations_. Thousands and thousands of beings not exclusively monsters. Humans vs. monsters. Humans vs. humans. _Mages_... Fuck.

A magnitude they couldn’t imagine nor compare with. 

No wonder the- Comic’s LV was so high. Hell, Slim was wrong in assuming there was dust on his hands. It was _blood._ This monster experienced a lot more than he could expect. 

Though, one question arose from the premise....when would he break? Like the Queen, unable to bear the weight of the LV. Lord knows how monsters even handle that much LV, the _voices_ , the unadulterated feeling of constant bloodthirst. He’s seen it in work with others; Axe and...Razz, _himself_. It’s never easy to suppress. Slim would honestly prefer the skeleton lose his shit now, than stab them in the back later. He’d prefer to have that assurance.

He finds himself paying attention to the conversation, if only to fill in Razz with the details later. 

The war torn pair of skeletons are _not_ on good terms as expected from their act earlier.

Maybe war is the reason, but it’s almost unsettling how alienated they are from each other. After spending so much time in this perfect universe, Slim has grown to show a bit more...empathy. Not in the best way, but either way seeing them he wondered..Were he and Razz like this before? Never. They couldn’t afford not _caring_...especially in their universe. He'd dust in the snow by now if it was not for Razz’s presence.

But the what if's they produce are hard to dismiss. 

Slim watches more. 

Comic is impatient even if he doesn’t say it, not happy about the situation. He _wants_ to return to his universe, which is albeit more confusing. Slim helps with the machine but he’d never use it, never go back.

Pyer has a bad mouth and Slim finds amusement in Pap's and Blue’s horrified expressions. He's also fickle and Slim can appreciate it, money is important and debts are nuisances.

Classic looks ready to book it from the room and Comic is surprisingly...nice. 

But even then, Comic and Pyer gazes are harsh, guarded. 

“ALSO I HAVE A QUESTION.” Pyer looks nervous, Slim decided he might as well cut him a break. 

“Shoot bean sprout.” Slim makes a show of blowing smoke back and relished in the scoldings thrown and the face of disgust Pyer makes. “BEAN SPROUT? CLEVER…” Comic’s face is set in stone, watching as the smoke dissipates.

He thinks he’ll keep the nickname, a good _match_ , nyeh, “DO YOU HAVE A G-“ 

“ ** _Papyrus..._** ** _don’t._ **”

Slim almost sits up in attention at his name. Comic’s voice….in that moment he understood why Pyer's words cut off.

It's a tone that demands obedience in a way that brought him before the throne many years ago, Slim finds himself unpleasantly stiff. Pyer glares at Comic, and Comic is blank until Pyer lets, no words needed. Slim is unsettled by the moment. _A common feeling with these two._

It simpers off with a change of subject by Pyer and Slim calms his nerves as the Pap plays along. If Slim was confused before, he’s absolutely lost now. He wonders what Pyer intended to ask Classic, and why even almighty poker face Classic looks... _disturbed._

_"G-“ who?_

When Pap, Blue and Pyer leave to eat, the silence that follows is almost hysterical. Slim allows it if not for Comic’s brief conversation about time. 

“Wow, that shit has to be the stalest interaction yet.” Slim doesn't even attempt at hiding the humour in his voice and Red's response of annoyance only adds on the mere ridiculousness of this situation. 

The following interaction being surprisingly pleasant. Slim finding that the one good thing about Comic is that he lives up to his name, puns are a good trait to have, especially if dealing with Edge. Sharing puns with the guy makes him almost...approachable. Comic is weird, but good company if Slim wasn’t admittedly hypersensitive to his movements. 

He can't let his quard down after all. And he has to admit, Comic’s bluntness is also...welcomed. 

Might as well get to the point. He has to give the guy some credit, he pointed out what everyone was tip toeing around. His LV. **19….**

_Higher than the Queen’s._

The promise Classic makes him adhere to is enough for now. A promise to be Pacifistic..which means a lot more here than in his previous universe. But even then, Comic is a wild card and Slim hasn’t felt this unsure for a while.

When the new skeletons leave led by Pap and Blue to choose new rooms, Classic trails the group until Pyer reportedly shortcuts Comic to Pyer’s room. Most likely to talk, which is something they all can understand.

And after this shit show, they _all_ have a lot to think about. 

Slim especially, as he can’t seem to ease the tenseness in his bones no matter how many cigarettes he smokes. No one complains about the smoke.

He needs to see Razz, and he doesn’t think twice to check the Cabin. Razz after all likes Echo. He’ll be there. He hopes.

-

Papyrus..or Pyer was having a bad time. His nerves were ablaze, even more so than usual. He might be sick. 

He admits it; he was never the smartest nor the most creative. But this entire day was far out of his understanding, and so abrupt that he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. He truly felt like he was hallucinating the whole thing.

The mere idea of alternate universes was hard to believe until he met the eye lights of someone who resembled him, that very day. Yes the resemblance was surreal but not identical. 

The others looked like they were completely different monsters. He couldn’t see himself in them at all, albeit the resemblance was irrefutable. 

Pap, the ‘leader’ he assumed...was so energetic. Bordering on naive but he was intelligent. A weird combination. His eyelights were white and he had no scars, Pap was nice to look at...Pyer felt slightly envious. 

Slim, the one with sharp teeth and only one socket lit purple was too smiley and snarky. Picking at S-Comic’s nerves upfront. Which regrettably was one similarity he shared with the alter. Nevertheless he couldn’t understand the anger he felt when hearing the jabs and the stiffness in Comic. Decidedly Slim irritated him to no fault. 

Stretch, the relaxed one, was well...so relaxed. It was eerie how quiet he could be, teeth blunt like Pap and lidded focused eyes. His voice was smooth, unlike the firmness and emotion in his own. Hard to get a grasp on. 

Edge...he didn’t mind so much although he looked as if he needed a nap, the guy looked angry and constipated. Teeth sharp and scars across his eye socket, intimidating and glaring. Although Pyer was sure he looked the same; at the moment he wasn’t exactly the definition of ‘calm’. If anything he probably had a look of pure discomfort painted on his own face. True to his feelings, he couldn’t be like Comic. 

The ‘Sans’ though…were jarringly different as well. Sitting close by their Papyrus’s, comfortable alongside them, unlike the awkward distance shared between him and Comic. 

Seeing them was what threw him off the most, _interacting_ with them was definitely alienating, settling a weird type of awkwardness in him. A feeling he didn’t like it at all nor was familiar with.

Classic was well, scarless like Papyrus but held a sort of control over the situation, respect from the others. Tired and his face plastered with a grin, this universe must’ve been kind to him...but yet again, he holds a type of exhaustion Comic is privy to. Pyer can’t grasp a proper read.

Blue was definitely the most out of character, both in character and appearance. Bubbly and bright blue eyes speak to the level of his magic and soul. It made him feel as if he had no armor, he hated it. Hated the fact it reminded him too much of how Comic used to be. Within the deepest concavity of his mind, before he became....He pointedly avoids eye contact.

Red is also different, like Edge, his predisposition is sharp, and Pyer can’t help but be gravitated to the studded collar around his neck. What in the world is his universe like? Was it possessive? He could never imagine Comic wearing such things. 

The entrance of Black...is also more to absorb. He’s professional and holds himself upright; lacking the laid back nature and yet his eyes are striking and words brief. 

Brothers. That’s what they referred each other as.   
Him and Sans....Just couldn’t be that. Their relationship after so long, just wasn’t that simple. 

His skull ached and his mind was scattered from the onslaught of information. Desperately trying to make sense of the last 24 hours. To think moments ago he was fearing for his life on the battlefield. Jittering in his place in the back as he regrettably sent waves of bones and incinerated any human that dared attack him. The increase of LV was not welcomed but at this point necessary. It was an experience he couldn’t get used to.

Since the moment he woke up to consciousness to the moment the others saw him, he felt _judged._ Comic didn’t help at all, the fact that it was Comic that he was stuck with didn’t help _at all_. He was being difficult and if Pyer had hair, he’d be pulling it out.

Why him and Comic specifically?! He wanted nothing to do with Comic and Comic shared the sentiment, but every time, no matter the distance, they gravitate towards the same point. It was inevitable, and it seems it applies in different _universes._

Now he was surrounded, stripped of titles, respect, and history. Nothing mattered in front of these...monsters, these strangers. Their eyelights watching his every movement, filtering him into categories….it was mostly directed to Comic given his LV. It was deserved but… he hated it and it made him feel downright sick, for reasons even he didn’t know, didn’t know why the skeletons obvious judgements of Comic made him curdle from the inside. 

He felt alone. For sure, Comic was here but...he wasn’t present. There was always a blank and indifferent air Comic had, like nothing bothered him. Sure Comic got angry at Pyer, but that was common considering most of their conversations, but he acted so unbothered and it truly felt like Pyer was the only one panicking. So detached and logical, accepting of what he saw while Pyer was a blubbering idiot. 

He knew Comic _cared_ about their situation, but even then...What in the fuck?! They needed to return!!! What happened to Undyne? Ricky? Chara? Everyone? Was there even a way back? He just wishes Comic would...show some feelings! Some inclination that he was...freaking out as much Pyer was, but no. He was ignoring Pyer, like the insufferable impermeable skeleton he always was, interrupting him and disregarding him. Like _Pyer_ was the true nuisance. 

The unknown factor that came with the alternate universe. 

_He wanted answers. So he tried to take that step_.

He was aware his question about Gaster was risky. A topic untouched for years yet, he couldn’t help it. The mere curiosity and urge for Comic to show some type of acknowledgement of the elephant in the room. 

Comic cutting him off was expected and Pyer couldn’t find any bravery to continue. He couldn’t care less about C- _Sans_ opinion, but he just couldn’t continue. Because that’s what Sans was good at, making Pyer….scared. 

Nevertheless the possibility was there, not like Pyer spotted any towering doctor like skeletons, but the mere _idea_ sent waves of anxiety and he didn’t know why. 

Why he dreaded the idea of a being near Sans if Gaster was alive. His old mentor, his fa…

_Sans always looked hurt the last time he saw him. Trembled, kind blue eyelights jerking around as if expecting to get hit. He looks like this when he thinks Papyrus is not looking._

_A face so contorted that instantly shifts the moment Papyrus enters, a laid back facade sliding in, once that stares deep into Papyrus._

_They look empty._

_Sans leaves him all alone the next day without saying goodbye. Gaster tells Papyrus that now that Sans is no longer there to dote, Papyrus can learn more about ‘advanced’ magic. It doesn’t make Papyrus happy even if he wanted to learn more from Gaster for a while._

_Papyrus can’t help but feel a gaping feeling of pain strike him from within._

_He seeks Gaster’s guidance, because after all, Gaster won’t leave him. He always knows what to say, and he doesn’t hide his feelings._

_He cares….right?_

“....Py…” 

_His face burned, and tears streaked his face as Papyrus screamed. Marrow seeped through his fingers and Gaster apologized instantly._

_Green magic envelopes a hand that grips his face harshly and obstructs his sight. He tries to fight it but his hands are held together scraping. He’s scared. And his voice sounds so weak, dying and he cries harder as the pain dissipates and Gaster holds him. He wonders if this is a nightmare._

_Gaster tells him that it was an accident, and Papyrus believes him. Even if he saw Gaster smiling wide as it happened._

Papyrus’s face burns. 

“....acos…”

_Murderer._

_That’s what Sans is. He k...killed Gaster. Why. Why. Why. Why._

_It doesn’t matter. The dust settles and Papyrus's soul cries._

“....kay…”

_Sans looks so gentle as he accepts his fate._

_Papyrus wants to hate him- no he does. He hates him, seething with rage, resentment for this sick excuse of a monster. This abomination and killer. He hates Sans. He hates his dumb eyelights that seem to overlook Papyrus. His dusty exterior. How fast he runs in front of Papyrus to take a hit in the chest from a human that dies moments later. How weak he is._

_Hates the tears that well up, and threaten to burst. Hates the fact his voice breaks and his soul feels as if it shattered._

_He...hates Sans._

“PYER!!”

Pyer jerked out of whatever trance he got himself in and instantly everything tunes back in. His soul hangs heavy and he disregards the fragmented memories.

They no longer matter. 

  
There’s a plate in front of him along with….Pap. His alter. He feels a slight pressure in his arm and he sees Blue lightly holding it, he’s short, and his vibrant eyelights are worried. 

Pyer instantly backs up, jerking out of the grip. “Shit....fuck, SORRY I WAS THINKING.” His voice sounds rough and shaky, internally he curses at the obvious distress. “I’M…JUST REALLY SHOCKED.” 

Shocked...was a understatement.

It’s painfully silent and Pyer feels shame run through him. How could he let himself drift so far in front of these...strangers in the first place! 

Blue adjusts quick, “IT'S QUITE ALRIGHT PYER! ME AND STRETCH WERE REALLY OVERWHELMED WHEN WE FIRST ARRIVED, IT MAKES SENSE TO TAKE SOME TIME ABSORB ALL OF THIS.”

“RIGHT..” Pyer can’t help but stare, Blue is animated and his eyelights painfully bright. He instantly looks at the plate. Blue continues unperturbed, “OH, I WOULD’VE GAVE YOU MY FRIENDSHIP TACOS BUT PAP GOT ONE OVER ME!” 

“FAIR AND SQUARE BLUE! NYEH HEH HEH!” 

Pyer nods absent. He…..doesn’t know what’s on said plate. It looks stringy with some sort of grainy red paste on top. It smells...tomatoey. “WHAT IS THIS?” 

Pap gasps almost scandalized and Pyer’s eyelights reach white ones that jitter and spasm. It’s rather funny, funnier as the skeleton has his hands pressed onto his face like a ghost. Aghast. 

A small ‘nyeh’ escapes Pyer at the sight and Blue brightens at the sound. 

“OH MY STARS!! THIS IS THE GREATEST CULINARY CREATION WITHIN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE! SPAGHETTI!!! YOU MUST TRY IT PYER, I CAN'T EVEN COMPREHEND-“   
  


Pyer tunes out Pap, passionate as he is; curiosity runs through Pyer. He picks up the fork and he twirls some of this weird food and bites. 

Oh my stars. 

The smile that breaks out isn’t registered by Pyer. He can’t think of anything else other than the flavors assaulting his palate. He takes another bite and hums in contentment. 

Looking at the skeletons, he feels...indescribable. His eyelights are most likely shining as he utters a simple.“NYEH.” 

That was the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

He doesn’t even register the slight hues that set upon the skeletons in front of him. He continues to eat and before long, the plate is empty. The taco that he tries afterwards is just as great. 

Pap and Blue aren’t half bad if they can cook this well, and he hopes their generousity isn't a one time thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly appreciate the great reception from everyone, and all of the cool opinions and ideas you all have! Thank you and I’m sorry for being so delayed in this update.


	7. Posture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You change your clothes and have some dinner. It's been a stressful 24 hours for you and for the world left behind.

You didn’t know how long you sat there. 

Whether it be seconds, minutes, hours; time was a hazy blur. 

Right now your mind was a scattered mess. Too tired, too far gone to keep track. Which was abnormal.

You were always alert, moving, racing to one point to another. You had to be, you had people depending on you, you had a purpose. 

Or at least, you _did. Did._ **_Did._**

Maybe it was the years bearing down or injuries like the one that painted the back of your skull. Maybe they just caught up to you. 

Either way….You were never good with time. 

_What would he say if he saw you?_

Your head weighed against the door, the thick wood being the only thing holding you up. Jacket haphazardly thrown across you. Chara’s locket felt heavy in your clutch; _a locket you won’t be returning anytime soon._

The thrums of panic, still heavy on the outskirts of your mind. Present but not on the forefront. Not anymore. 

_You can’t afford to lose any more control, because no one can help you now._

You haven’t been able to get up from your position in a while, limbs feeling like lead. Soul surprisingly silent and quiet. For once, you think you could fall asleep. Truly shut down, and if lucky, you wouldn’t wake up. 

One could dream. 

_Sometimes you wish you hadn’t destroyed the controller Gaster made for the tech on your spine. Maybe then you’d sleep. Enter a coma and never wake._

One could dream. 

When you actually think of it...Even if you tried really hard, you couldn’t remember the last time you cried, better yet shed actual tears. Maybe it was a byproduct of your faulty memory or repressive tendencies; but the idea was foreign until today. 

Crying to you was a waste of magic, an overly exhausting task, and...a clear example of the lack of control you held. _He’d agree._

But you cried today….

Who would’ve thought such a simple picture from the past could prompt _this?_

Stars. _Rose._ How were you going to do this? 

_I miss you._

_How_ were you going to do this? 

_Wish you were here._

Heaving a sigh, you feel sluggish as you press your hands to your face. Almost hiding behind them. 

Slowly a broken laugh filters through, one sounding so fragile you don’t believe it’s yours. 

Heh. What a joke. 

Another shaky sigh exited; don’t dwell on it Sans. 

Only thing you can do is move forward. **_There's nothing else you can do._ **

You force yourself to stand and your bones creak. You shove the locket almost robotically back under your uniform. Out of sight. 

Looking around for the first time since you’ve entered; you realize that your new room is actually in good condition. 

You’d think it being unoccupied would make for a lack of care, but you were wrong. The windows are clear, shining light that catches the dust particles in the air. The bed, made neatly, complemented by polished shelves and a bedside desk. Overall it was very….quaint. A word you never thought you’d use. 

The only filth in the room was because of you; in particular the dust you carried. Otherwise, the room was nice… and now _yours_. A premise that you're unsure what to do with.

 _It doesn’t have a mirror._ **_Good_ ** _._

Stuck in your place, you don’t move an inch. What now? 

Looking down, you see your jacket that you threw off in panic and the familiar piece prompts you to move. You feel bad for leaving it on the floor, despite it being tattered to threads. The first gift you ever recieved. 

No matter what happened it was always there for you. You reach down to pick it up - a hard knock resounds. 

Instantly you lock up, train of thought broken. You feel rather like a cat. Furs at attention, caught red handed scratching furniture...or whatever annoying thing cats tend to do. You’d think you were a statue.

You really don’t want to see anyone, especially whoever stands behind that door.

Your body moves to pick up the jacket and you open the door anyway. 

You see red. 

Red the skeleton that is. 

Red has one hand in his jacket pocket and one holding a bundle of some sort. Looking begrudged, there’s sweat brimming his skull as he looks at you, pointedly not making any true eye contact. Tense and at a distance. 

He looks at you, head to toe, lingering on the gaping crack on your left socket. 

“the rest thought we should leave you alone since yer bro said so, but ya’ seem fine an’ dandy.” he says, voice gruff and almost bitter. 

You….don’t know what to do or say. For once your usually loud mind is void of words. Bro? 

Red raises an eyebrow, grin straining under your scrutiny. “what? are ya’ gonna keep staring at me, or what?” 

“...what time is it?” you sound blank, monotone. He looks confused and surprised by the question but he answers. 

“it’s ‘round 4.” He looks uncomfortable as you search for his eyelights. 

Wow. For that long you- **Snap out of it**. You force a grin and chuckle. “heh, sorry, Red was it?” 

“ye-”

You continue blunt, “what do you need?”

He grits his teeth and glares. “we’re similar in height, so i thought ya’ should get my clothes. ‘ere.” he says as he thrusts the clothes at you. 

You’re baffled. His...clothes? Similar in height? And it's true, if anything you’re slightly _taller._

You chuckle softly at the realization, noting the few inch difference that makes your head decline a tad bit. You always imagined being the shorter one and you don’t know why. 

“you gonna stare at me all day or ya’ gonna take it?”

“did you lose a bet or….” You trail off as you quirk an eye bone and adjust the bundle of clothes, in the arm not holding your jacket. Thankful for sure but unable to understand the uncharacteristic action. This wasn’-

Red’s face lights up with his namesake, and you stare. “wha- no! just...fuckin take the clothes Comic, n’ find the shower by ‘urself.” he bites out before he shortcuts away in a second. 

You flinch back, and take in the empty air….Okay then. Short tempered, got it. 

Closing the door, and locking it for extra measure, you set what was given on the bed, noting the towel given. 

You use this moment to take Red’s clothes in. 

To your relief he gave you a red turtleneck; shirts were something you’d prefer not to wear, not with your arms. Along with it were black shorts with red lines down the sides. Plus red socks that look brand new. 

Looking at them a soft laugh escaped you; he and Edge were true to their color coordination. Red, black and gold seemed like their go to colors. 

But the laugh only lasts for a second, and you can’t stop yourself from grimacing, mirth running off. Unease settling right back into its rightful place. 

You really don’t want to change clothes.

While dust no longer phased you, you were still fully aware of it’s impact on the others. But...it was just….you just didn’t expect this to be the last time you wore your uniform.

_You have no reason to put it back on._

The mere thought was unwelcomed.

You hesitate for a moment more before you gather the apparel; might as well get it over with. Like a bandage. 

…..

Jacket now settled back on, it took longer for you to leave the room than you’d admit, awkward in your movements and hesitant, you felt like a turtle. Walking down the stairs with no finesse, no speed, holding the bundle of new clothes tight but not without care, unwilling to get dust on it. 

Okay, okay, just another door and then you can find the shower. No big deal. 

Opening the second door, you find relief in the empty halls. Dreading having to navigate this foreign...mansion, you wish Red wasn’t as flighty as he was. 

Looking down the hall, you wonder if Pyer has done so already. Considering how long you spent alone, you’d guess he did. He’s an adult, he can handle himself...

A pang of regret went through you as you stared at his door in the distance to the right, regret on how you left things off, the briefness of the conversation...You were truly the worst. He must be far more freaked out than you. 

But it was the painful truth that you simply couldn’t bear talking to him. It’s been that case for a while. For years. 

You couldn’t hold a conversation with him, without it turning bitter. Therefore there was no help your presence could offer. 

You turn away, and you curse yourself as you realize you have no clue where to start. You recognize some doors belonging to the others, but you really didn’t want to take a chance and confront them. Not with the impression you made so far. 

If anything you’re rather surprised they haven’t watched your every move, considering their protective nature. Either way, you’re thankful that the respective skeletons let you have personal space. 

They must be used to this song and dance.

Soft quick steps alert you. Oh, no. Talk about jinxing it. 

Before you can hide, you find yourself eye to eye with large light blue eyelights by the stairway. 

You tense up instantly, and cursed what’s left of your luck. 

“COMIC, GOOD TO SEE YOU OUT OF YOUR ROOM!” Blue is loud and he instantly approaches, Stretch right on his tail. Blue’s expression is happy, but he keeps a good distance...Stretch is another story. 

The skeleton looms, an unspoken threat. Painfully predictable. 

“PYER GOT CHANGED AN HOUR AGO, AND TOLD US TO NOT WORRY ABOUT YOU….BUT YOU WERE IN YOUR ROOM FOR A WHILE AND I WANTED TO SEE IF YOU NEEDED ANYTHING! ” He looks motivated and once again you can’t help but wonder how he does it. His creator must be proud…..where did that come from? 

“no, i’m fine. Red came just now and gave me some clothes.” You say indicating the pile of clothes. 

“RED?! WOW THAT’S..NICE OF HIM TO DO!” Blue sounds truly surprised.

You chuckle and shrug, “maybe i left a good impression on him.” Stretch raises an eye bone at that. 

You continue with a grin, ”anyway, now that you mention it, where’s the bathroom?” 

Blue perks up, cute. “OH! THERE ARE MULTIPLE BUT THE NEAREST ONE IS HERE.” He says basically sprinting past you, to a door on the adjacent wall. 

You’re painfully thankful for the proximity as you follow next to Stretch. 

“thanks Blue.”

He brightens, “NO PROBLEM” and without losing a second he adds, “THERE’S A HAMPER INSIDE TO LEAVE ANY DIRTY CLOTHES IN AND…” 

He trails off looking conflicted but his resolve seems to return quickly, “PLEASE JOIN US DOWNSTAIRS WITH PYER WHEN YOU’RE DONE. HE WENT BACK TO HIS ROOM AFTER CHANGING, AND HE WILL MOST LIKELY BE MORE COMFORTABLE WITH YOU THAN US. ANYWAY WE’RE MAKING A DINNER FOR BOTH OF YOU, SO PLEASE JOIN US SOON!!” Shooting a look to stretch, Blue wastes no time leaving with a friendly wave. Ending the conversation without any room for argument. 

“heh.” You’re left speechless and funnily you find your expectations broken again. 

Truly surprised by the situational awareness expressed from Blue. Unlike the immature idea you had of him, you expected him to be a ‘act before thinking’ kind of person. 

Nevertheless it’s a good contrast. 

Sighing, once more alone, you enter the bathroom and find yourself heavy at the thought of what you had to do. 

Stripping, you ignore the mirror as you discard your gloves, uniform and jacket, before entering the shower. It turns on like you expected and the scalding water doesn’t hurt, doesn’t burn as it slides off ridged bone. 

You watch as grimy water drains with empty sockets. 

The room is filled with steam by the time you exit. Drying off, you exhale for the first time since entering and you can’t help but look to the side….where the mirror lays bolted to the wall. 

A skull with gruesome cracks stares back, red and gold mocking. 

The large crack in the back of your head aches and you watch the figure hover above theirs with an unsightly arm and even more so hand. The crack aches along with the device in their nape. _An unfair opponent._

You rip your eyes away and snatch the clothes Red gave you. Not before shoving your gloves back on. You force yourself to inhale and exhale. 

Changing you couldn’t help but note the slight bagginess of your new apparel as you tighten the strings of the shorts, which continuously slid off your hips.

While Red was slightly shorter, he was definitely more broader in stature. 

The clothes were very comfortable but unlike what you usually wore. Baggy and loose. The air against your legs was also a weird sensation. You were far too accustomed to wearing military clothes, structured layered clothes, and….god were you stuck up. 

You almost laugh at the irony. Considering how you posed yourself, many assume the opposite. You wish that were the case, since you’ve forgotten how to even _be_ lazy. 

Damn Sans, _you_ need a drink. 

Leaving the dirty uniform in the hamper, your eyelights linger on your jacket….you’ll get it back later. Wearing it won’t matter, you’ll be fine without it. _Keep moving._

Shutting the door, you turn your back and head towards Pyers room. You feel naked in new clothes but knock before you get a chance to hesitate. 

You can’t help but wonder what he'll think. 

The door remains closed for a moment before it’s hesitantly inched open. Purple eyelights peer, before the door opens completely. 

The expression on Pyer’s skull is laughable. And if you are honest, it lit up your nerves. 

He was gaping, in the way only he does. But it wasn’t in awe, no it was...as if one saw something one would never expect. For now you weren’t sure if that was good or bad.

“what?” You say to Pyer, a harsh tone in place. 

He jerks out of whatever trance he’s in, “Y-YOU’RE NOT WEARING YOUR JACKET.” 

That’s it? You shrug, “it was a bit dusty.” You also note the orange hoodie and sweatpants he has on, and you can’t help but chuckle. It fits weirdly enough.

“you’re obviously not wearing your uniform anymore, what’s the big deal?”

He was uncharacteristically silent before huffing. Crossing his arms he continues, changing the subject, “WHAT DID YOU COME HERE FOR ANYWAY...COMIC?” Faltering slightly at your new alias. 

You let the topic go, “well, turns out since we’re new here, the others want to hold a welcoming dinner for us. most likely to introduce us to whoever didn’t show up this morning. Blue’s the one who told me to get you, so blame him.” you finish, settling your hands in your pocket. 

_Not_ enjoying the lack of layers you have on as Pyer’s eyelights follow the movement. 

Pyer’s face slightly twists at the information, “YOU TAKING ORDERS FROM BLUE NOW?” He says mockingly as he continues now confused, “AND DINNER? WHAT’S THE HUGE CELEBRATION? THEY ALREADY SUPPLIED ME ENOUGH TO HEAL, SO I SHOULD LAST A COUPLE MORE DAYS AND THEY DON’T LOOK LOW ON MAGI-”

“Pyer,” you cut him off briskly, “this is obviously another universe, and from what i gather, food isn’t scarce here. you heard them, this is a peaceful universe. they don’t have to worry about preserving magic, so they probably have lots to spare.” 

And it was true, these guys lived in a mansion, in a world in a time of peace, of course they wouldn’t think twice about holding ‘dinners’. 

Still...you understood why Pyer right now looked disturbed. 

“I SEE…” he says gritting his teeth, “I ASSUMED THAT…WHATEVER. LET’S GO.’” 

Tone heavy, he brushes past you without another word, expecting you to follow. 

You stare at his back but quickly do so at a distance, heading towards what you assume will be a very awkward evening. 

-

Axe initially thought his new name was extremely uncreative.

Who were they trying to kid? ‘Axe’ because of his weapon choice? Not the best they could’ve thought of considering their similar intellects. 

But he wasn’t about to complain, at least Papyrus kept some dignity being called Echo. A end result of the threats he made when **_‘Crooks’_ **was dared to be suggested. 

An axe to the spine was quite effective in changing minds.

And he had to say, the nickname was cute, considering Papyrus chose it himself. Playing off how he sometimes speaks quietly and his affinity to Echo flowers. His bro really was the best. 

Life was easier since then, those hard days of adjustment and tension. He was aware the mansion occupants still felt off about them, their _history._

_But there was no changing the past, so what’s the use?_

Either way he and Echo now had about 3 hearty meals a day and a nice cottage. His brother was no longer lonely, and even Axe got along with the others on the occasion. 

They had a garden, and he could feel sunshine on his skull on a daily basis. Here there were stars to stare at without fear. It was better than anything they would have wished for or deserved. 

After all they’ve been through, seen and did, being able to see the surface _alive_ , alongside his brother was far past the point of dreams. It was a miracle. 

And nothing. _Nothing_ was going to take this away from them. 

-

The unfamiliar scent of fresh, cooked food hits you a way it hasn’t in a while. 

It’s been years since someone has cooked for you, better yet, close to a century since you last sat down and ate alongside others.

Meanwhile Pyer’s whole body and posture broadcasts his discomfort as he walks. Despite that, he refuses to look at you as you both make your entrance. 

The kitchen is enormous and has two sides, clad with cabinets, sinks, stoves, and skeletons at the helm. Black, who seems to have come home, Edge and Blue all share the stations, while Papyrus is dutifully setting the table, helping. 

The table is long, and holds their brothers who obviously partake in no cooking. Mutt, you assume, is engulfed in a long black jacket with a fluffy hoodie. Head laid on his arms, his eyes are the first to see you both.

Instantly the atmosphere changes, becoming guarded as your appearances are acknowledged. Their eyelights are disarming and you instantly want to just leave and ignore them. But you don’t. 

“yo.” is all you offer to their sudden silence, approaching the table past the cooking skeletons. You sit away from the tense skeletons at the end of the table, thankful for it’s lengthiness. Meanwhile, Pyer nods to all them stiffly; funnily following you and sitting near. He must be more uncomfortable than you assumed. 

“WELCOME COMIC, PYER! WE’RE CLOSE TO DONE, WE’RE JUST WAITING FOR THE REST TO COME!” Pap says gleefully, putting down the last of cutlery, and plating before sitting basically in front of you. “YOU BOTH LOOK VERY GOOD!” 

You’re alarmed at the compliment and Pyer who sat 2 seats over from you looks the same. 

A small “thanks.” exits you, avoiding looking at him and Pyer looks down at the hoodie with critical eyes. 

“that Red’s clothes?” Classic says eyeing the red turtle neck.

“yea-“, “yeh, it is, and what of it Vanilla?” Red spits out, interrupting you from his seat, arms crossed facing away from you...slightly flushed. Huh. 

Classic snickers and placatingly puts up his hands, “just askin’, why so red?” 

“listen here you-“

“COMIC, PYER, HOW ARE YOUR NEW ROOMS?” Pap asks, smile straining. 

You chuckle and Pyer answers, “ITS VERY NICE, BUT I HAVE TO ADMIT..IT'S DEFINITELY SOMETHING TO GET USED TO.” 

Pap smiled understandingly at that, “IT MUST BE A VERY DISORIENTATING TRANSITION, BUT I HOPE YOU FIND IT MORE COMFORTABLE WITH TIME.” His voice is a lot less abrasive and more soothing, something you appreciate. “OH!” he gasps as he catched Mutt’s eyelights. 

“THIS IS BLACK’S BROTHER, MUTT! YOU DIDN’T MEET HIM YET.” Pap says with enthusiasm that Mutt is sorely lacking, because said skeleton just nods before turning away. Pap seems disappointed and you notice Black shooting looks in your direction.

“he’s not much of a talker and had a late night. don’t mind him.” says Stretch from his seat as he sips on honey, almost humorous. Must be a normal occurrence then. 

“YOU SAID THERE’S ANOTHER PAIR AS WELL?” Pyer says, looking at the doorway. And you can’t name the feeling you get, you already know who he’s referring to but you can’t understand _why._

Stretch becomes slightly tense and even Mutt looks over, “YES, THAT’S CORRECT, THEY SHOULD BE COMING ALONG WITH SLIM AND HIS BROTHER.” 

“that’s a lot of skeletons. how long since- ” 

_“_ WHERE ARE THEY?!” A loud voice resembling Blue’s shouts out, but more rough at the edge and almost whiny. It’s jarring. 

The door slamming open is also a clue, but you don’t even need to look to tell it’s Swapfell Sans. You look anyway, arching your eyebone as the skeleton clad in an overall, a purple scarf and even brighter purple triforce shaped eyelights strides towards the table. Slim looks to be sleeping as he shortcuts in a seat. You’re rather proud of yourself for not reacting. 

You turn in your seat, back to Pyer as the abrasive skeleton comes to a stop before you. Everyone stiffens at the proximity and Slim sits up slightly. You wonder if they're worried for you or him...probably the latter. 

“I AM THE MALEFICENT SANS, BUT YOU CAN CALL ME RAZZ. MY BROTHER TOLD ME ALL ABOUT YOU COMIC.” He says, confident and almost fearless, and to be honest you’re rather impressed. 

“that so?”

“YES! I HEARD YOU HAVE 19 LV, IS THAT TRUE?” 

If the atmosphere could get thicker it just did, because everyone immediately stopped what they were doing. You feel called out, and you clench your hand hard to hold yourself in place. 

“yes. but y’know...it really isn’t any of your business is it?” so much for holding back, huh? You look him straight in his eyes, and he’s weirdly quiet when maintaining it. 

He’s first to look away.

“I GUESS SO, BUT!” He looks back at you and puffs up, “WE _WILL_ SPAR ONE DAY AS YOU OBVIOUSLY ARE A FORMIDABLE FIGHTER! MAKE SURE TO EAT A LOT AND BE PREPARED FOR THE FUTURE!” And with that he stalks off, taking a seat next to a stiff Slim whose smile strains as Razz focuses in on him. 

You...don’t understand a thing. “ok...” 

“ **that’s a first.”**

The magic in the air is tense with anticipation, and you make eye contact with a singular blaring crimson eyelight. The second thing you note is a gaping crack, and misshapen teeth, all which match what you already imagined. 

“AXE, ECHO! RIGHT ON TIME! WE JUST FINISHED COOKING.” Blue says, carrying a tray of food alongside Edge as Pap goes to help them, “IT'S ABOUT TIME THEY CAME.” adds Black from the kitchen, glaring.

Axe and Echo's entrance is a silent one, as their large figures move to sit at the table. They must've either shortcutted together or were extremely silent when entering, because you didn’t notice them following the Swapfell brothers. They’re pretty hard to miss. 

They sit in the empty seats, which happen to be located in front of you and Pyer, and you don’t enjoy the look the others are ‘discreetly’ shooting at you all. Neither do you enjoy the sudden itch in your bones, and urge to lash out. 

But above all of that, you note that the skeleton in front of you is obviously closest in terms of LV to you. It's rather funny like that, because in the end you don’t need to be a judge to tell if someone is dripping with LOVE, it follows them like a slime, undismissable. 

“greetings, names Comic.” _Ugh_.

You curse Chara internally once more but Axe is quick to answer before you get far. 

“name’s Axe, nice ta’ _meat_ ya.” he says, his voice almost guttural reaching for a handshake. You take it without hesitation. His hand almost covers yours, and you feel weird seeing his cuffed up phalanges. 

The handshake is as firm as it is brief, and Axe looks inquisitive as he withdraws. 

Echo, also speaks up, voice almost airy, “I am Echo, Nice To Meet You Both.” He’s hunched in his seat, but looks better than you expected. Teeth not as crooked and a nice light blue sweater on. It’s relieving.

Pyer looks...upset from your right, but he quickly corrects himself, “I AM CALLED PYER, YOU BOTH LIVE IN THE CABIN CORRECT?”

“yes...I Mean, Yes, We Do.” Echo says, shifting in his seat. 

“THEY TAKE GOOD CARE OF IT, EVEN HAVE GARDEN!” Blue says as he sets the last of the food down, settling down next to Pyer. Stretch right on his trail….next to you. 

You smile despite the awkward positioning. “garden? that’s nice, takes a lot of attention.” 

“it does, Echo is always on top of it. he’s real good at stuff like that.” Axe says in a lighter tone, leaking his adoration in his words. Echo seems more comfortable, blushing a nice sandy color. 

“THAT’S GOOD, ESPECIALLY IF THERE'S A SHORTAGE. YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’LL NEED IT.” Pyer says offhandedly, sincere but you don’t miss how both skeletons stiffen. Stretch and Blue also noticeably stiffen, 

“What Do You Mean?” Echo is the one to ask, hands clasped in red gloves, a quiver in his voice. You cringe internally, feeling Axe’s magic spike. 

Pyer definitely feels it as well, but answers more confused than anything. “I MEAN, LATELY FOOD RATI-“ he cuts himself short as if realizing where he is. His expression twists and he puts a hand up, embarrassed. 

“SORRY, FORGET WHAT I SAID.” I guess you’re not the only one who forgets sometimes. He turns to Blue, “YOU COOK?” Smart. 

Blue smiles wide at the question, and the mood simpers, “YES! I’VE BEEN LEARNING WITH PAP AND SOMETIMES MRS. TORIEL COMES OVER TO HOLD LESSONS!” 

“toriel?” You blurt, perking up at the name, noting Edge sitting a seat over from Axe, next to Red. 

“YES! SHE’S VERY SKILLED, ESPECIALLY IN MAKING PASTRIES!” Pap interjects, sitting next to you, and you find yourself sandwiched. You stiffen without knowing it, leaning back in your seat. 

Out of your element? Yes. Definitely.

It’s by this time everyone is serving themselves and you watch. “that’s nice, i only know how to cook eggs.” 

“WELL YOU ALWAYS START SOMEWHERE. WHEN YOU BOTH GET SETTLED, WE CAN COOK TOGETHER!” Pap says with a wide smile that Blue reciprocates. 

“AS LONG THEY DON'T RUIN THE KITCHEN.” Edge adds, cutting into his lasagna. Black laughs out loud at that, “INDEED.” 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME EDGE!” Yells Razz from his seat, glaring daggers. 

The interaction is surreal and so domestic you're unsure where you fit. You look down at your empty plate and you realize a singular fact. 

Looking over, Pyer is eating tacos slowly but seems content, Blue and Echo talking to him. A pang of an unknown emotion runs through you. 

_You haven’t eaten alongside Papyrus since…_

You feel sick. 

“you good?” Stretch is the one to ask, breaking your revere. Pap next to you also looks worried. 

“...yeah, just unsure where to start.” You say, quieter than intended as you wave to the multiple platters.

“how ‘bout the tacos? my bro made ‘em, they’re great.” 

Pap nods in affirmation. 

You do so, grabbing one. Taking a bite, it’s better than you thought, for some reason you expected it to have glitter or some inedible ingredient. 

“good?” 

“yeah, it’s good.” The magic in your system increases an inch and you dread it. Axe is looking at you weirdly. 

-

In the end, you only eat one taco. And despite the urging from the others, you refuse anymore. Dinner goes off without a hitch, but you stay stagnant in your place. Distant. 

You leave the table early, saying something along the lines of a thanks. Pyer looks at you, an indescribable feeling in his eyelights as you leave to your room. 

You don’t sleep, just sit on your bed with a golden locket in hand. 

The sun sets and the moon replaces it. 

In another world, Chara searches for their friend among dust and blood into the night. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been having a big writers block, just didn't know how to even write my own characters at one point, and found it hard to write interactions. But I finally wrote, so here, for all of you that have large amounts of patience! Comments and constructive critisism welcomed!


	8. Pleasantries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starring: Breakfast coffee, Mutt’s weird choice in toppings and questions. 
> 
> You/Comic are having a good time....not.

Papyrus or what he went by most days, _Echo_ , was…. scared. 

A premise he was familiar with, but now was intensified when Edge _and_ Slim visited them that day. 

-

That particular morning, Razz decided to spend the previous night over, so there he slept. Sprawled in the guest room, finally asleep.

He kept Echo up all night, talking about how he was greatest at hiding and convincing himself that he was leading his brother on a rabbit chase. 

Unknowingly just wasting time since Echo knew Slim didn’t particularly _care_ and _knew_ where Razz was all along. But all of that, Echo didn’t mind and...in a way he knew Razz didn’t either.

It had become a sort of tradition.

They shared a unique dynamic, but Razz, for all the times he complained, jabbed, and demanded, was well, unexpectedly insightful behind brash tones. Good company.  
Razz himself, finding Echo’s company ‘worthy’ of his precious attention. 

And funnily enough, Echo found himself a harboror of many skeletons on many occasions, a premise he’d never predict before. _Something he never deserved._

When he and Axe were uprooted from the underground to another universe on the surface, they had frightened everyone who laid eyes upon them. 

Echo knew what they all saw; live representations of the worst outcome. 

As far as they were concerned, none could relate to the horrors they went through, the horrors they _committed_. 

_Those poor, pitiful, foolish humans._

And it was hard to confront them. Embarrassing, shameful, and _frustrating_ . But, things changed and they ultimately were forced to see it from their perspective through bitter arguments and tears. And they put effort in accepting them, they _tried_ , which in the end is all Echo can ask for. 

Since then, Echo was proud to say they all grew closer. Of course there was always the degree of discomfort the others felt in regard to their past, but otherwise… Echo now had people he could consider friends. 

The unlikeliest of friends but friends nonetheless.

Which is why, when Echo awoke early to witness the sunrise and set up breakfast, he was only a bit surprised by Edge’s sudden appearance. But, the reason followed up with speed that caused whiplash in Echo’s mind. 

New skeletons. Another pair. 

The machine was a lost cause, and dormant since their arrival with Black and Mutt prior 2 years. Progress seemed to come to a halt.

So the sudden news on the appearance of a new pair, fear was the emotion Echo felt that morning. 

Now, it wasn’t due to the new San’s LV, while he was unsure what to expect, no, it wasn’t that. It was the oncoming confrontation. A confrontation he dreaded with all his soul. 

Would they understand? Would they scream in fright at his teeth? Be violent? Judgemental?

He sincerely hoped they would at least give him the benefit of doubt before turning away in disgust. Because while the skeletons of the mansion now accepted them, Echo met many monsters and humans that didn’t and his soul pulsed in anxiety. 

Nothing was worse being ostracized at first sight. 

And to say the least, when Slim arrived later that day, Echo’s courage lessened. 

Echo was always quite sensitive to magic, so when one that exuded stress from _Slim_ of all people, he found reason to be concerned. 

Slim, the smart mouthed skeleton with nerves of steel in face of the others...was _stressed_. 

Well, at the very least, Axe seemed enthusiastic for dinner. 

-

Seeing the pair for the first time, Axe found things anticlimactic. 

At least Echo seemed at ease with the appearances of Comic and Pyer. Axe knew exactly how much his bro worried over meeting new people, something he could relate with. But for Axe it was a different feeling that was associated with first meetings. 

Resignation. 

An idea set in stone the moment his skull got bashed in, and his magic pulsed blood red in his sole eyelight. He wasn’t the friendliest and now he looked the farthest from it. He was a horrific sight, so that often ruled out leaving a good impression. 

But, Axe, found there were always exceptions. 

Axe honestly half expected a Sans that challenged his own height and looks, and Echo told him how he imagined a Sans that carried a glare that challenged Black’s. 

But in actuality Comic was none of the above. Not scary per se, but rather controlled and composed. Looking rather nice in what could be assumed to be Red's clothes, the new skeleton was definitely smaller than anticipated, but not frail either.

His eyelights, a hazy red complimented by gold, he was scarred. More prominently, his left eye socket and back skull had gaping cracks; _a skeleton that could take a beating_ . Along with a weird triangle shaped implant on his nape that Axe also notices, he can’t help but find Comic definitely _new_ in terms of looks, but most of all...tired. 

Pyer, whom they expected to be a larger and more intimidating Edge, while broad, looked rather...soft. Comfy in what could only be identified as Stretch’s hoodie, nervous but not threatening, he had a thick scar painting his face. One that went from under his socket across his navel cavity, it was far larger than the one Comic had. And if the scuffs and hairline cracks along his skull said anything, he also was not to be underestimated. Lavender eyelights that pulsed bright and constantly scanned the room, he simply looked...uncomfortable. In his seat, back unnecessarily straight and arms crossed. 

Overall, Axe was neither impressed nor surprised by the new pair, but he _was_ intrigued. Not to mention that they were sitting two seats apart, which in itself felt out of place amongst the rest and rather funny. 

Plus, while it was old news that Axe had issues in retaining information for the most part, he prided himself in judging a character. Razz only made his job that much easier. 

The scene Razz creates does wonders for Axe, and almost made him laugh out loud seeing all of them, even Mutt tense up at the mere _audacity_ demonstrated. 

LV was a sensitive topic, but it was one Razz traversed without care or fear for his life. While Axe had to credit the energetic skeleton, it truly was a suicidal act. An act that Comic evidently doesn’t appreciate. 

But instead of outright rage, he’s firm, maintaining eye contact and not showing any outward signs of aggression. Pyer is another story, visibly stiffening at the moment, eyelights holding a quality that Axe finds interesting. 

They don’t hate each other, that’s for sure. And Comic holds _extreme_ control of himself. 

An uncommon trait in monsters with high degrees of LV that’s for sure. But on with 19? It really...didn’t make sense. Borderline impossible.

There was no way a monster in possession of such LOVE could resemble sanity, yet the living example sat before them, oblivious. 

Heh. 

It was then Axe let themselves be known, and Comic’s LV became even more obvious once closer. Axe’s eye socket _aches_ and Axe wills himself not to pull on it. 

It truly was no wonder the rest pegged Comic a threat. Expected even. He wondered how they didn’t run away. 

They had more guts than expected for being all bones. 

Yet in contrast to the rising tension, Axe didn’t feel as if the opposing monster was vying for dominance, nor bloodthirsty towards him. No, he was simply closed off; no indication of being affected by his presence….indifferent. 

Comic doesn’t _care_ about Axe’s LV. 

A first for Axe since arriving in this universe, but what further solidifies Comic and Pyer as fine in his book, is their _reactions_...or lack of. 

There’s no recoiling in horror, grimace, or looking away. None. 

Comic studies them, and Pyer, while surprised, communicates angry concern, but neither communicate shock. They don’t even flinch when he and Echo sit directly in front of them, and Comic doesn’t even falter when offered a hand to shake. 

Turns out Echo worried for nothing, and for that, Axe is left relieved but slightly confused after.

Comic in particular was the source, but it seemed as if this was going to be a recurring issue with said skeleton. One thing that Axe notices right off the bat, is his arms, in particular his forearms. 

While the interaction is brief and Comic is quick to sit back down, the abnormal shape of Comic’s forearms calls Axe’s curiosity and attention. 

The slight protrusion of the sleeves looked sharp, unnatural. A mutation? Maybe...implants?

Was it similar to the small pebble sized one on his spine? What was the use? How did it work? Axe doesn’t know, but he knows better than to voice his thoughts. 

For now, he’ll try to remember the information for later, and when the burning gaze of Classic meets his own, he guesses he’s not the only one. 

And, as dinner, his favorite part of the day prolongs, new information on the pair continues to surface. 

Info that Axe doesn’t know how to feel about, and when seeing the mansion skeletons’ faces, they don’t either. 

War. It took Axe a while, but he thinks he understands at least the brunt of it. But, he doesn’t like what it infers, _but_ he also isn’t one to sugar coat shit. 

When Pyer first references food shortages and rations, Axe instinctively goes on the defensive. Thinking the others told him about his and Echo’s past, but Pyers entire demeanor stops Axe instantaneously. 

Realization of his environment, the shame that follows, and how instantly, he changes the topic as if burned. 

Stars, Pyer eats as if every bite is the last. _Hungry_.

Comic though, is...worrying. Axe never once thought to care much for someone at first encounter but, he can’t help it. Everything isn’t adding up, if anything it scrambles Axe up. 

You’d think someone who left a universe where food often was short because of war, would be hungry. Would jump at the opportunity to indulge. 

But Axe, for the life of him, can’t understand how _little_ Comic manages to eat. Not when Blue, Black and Edge cook heavenly meals. Not when Pyer openly appreciates it. 

Since the moment they interacted, the moment Comic’s words got fewer and terse, the skeleton’s thick eye bags grew more obvious. The lack of motivation he has with each bite, the empty haze his eyelights take; Axe sees it all.

In spite of the control Comic has over himself and his expressions.

It’s a sight Axe knows by heart. 

He recognizes it because...it was how Echo looked when he first ate real food… ever since leaving their universe.

A look carrying guilt and fear. 

-

Everything aches and you cannot for the life of yourself, fall asleep. 

The night is quiet, an unusual sound that screams tranquility....The silence is deafening. 

You wonder how long you’ve been there, bathing in the light glow of the moon, thinking, watching darkness fade away into the earliest of mornings. 

It is surreal, and for every inch of exhaustion that burdens you, the locket you hold makes up for it in weight. 

You’d like to say this wasn’t a usual occurrence. But it was. 

Nightmares were often the reason. But now? That wasn’t it. It wasn’t that simple. 

There you sit, head down…there are so many things out of your control, yet it’s no longer time to ponder on what you already know. 

It’s about what you _should_ do. 

You’re going to fix the machine and return...and if you don’t then….then what. That’s it. 

You don’t know.

A growl of frustration reverberates and you jolt. Your own voice startling you so much, you fumble for the locket that almost escapes your grip. Wow, talk about smooth Sans. 

Heaving a sigh, you finally put the locket back on, settling back underneath Red’s turtleneck. The crimson color feeling almost mocking, you flop flat on the bed, the cushioning doing nothing to calm your mind…..

What time is it?

…..

You hear them first, the sounds of the others awakening. The faint noise of voices, steps and rustling. It was a sound you weren’t used to. 

Having been posted out with too many faces you, yourself, couldn't name; on the lookout for enemy troops and in combat for months on end, the noise was much more.... ominous.

This sound wasn’t chaotic, if anything it was lull that came along with living with people. People, who woke up on their own accord, at ease, no orde-

Ugh, you truly were lost in your thoughts.

But at the muffled creak of a door, your skull turned. You stood automatically, straightening up and striding to open your door.

The pleasant surprise in Blue’s face as he’s barely 3 steps up sends a bizarre sensation through you.

You speak before he can, “morning Blue, what are you doing here alone?” Internally you wince at how creepy you sound, why couldn’t you word sentences normally? 

But Blue doesn’t seem phased, if anything his mischievous smile says differently, “MWEH HEH, Don’t Tell Papy Kay?” he whispers conspiratorially, or what he perceives as a whisper. It comes across more normal than anything. Adorable. Your eyelights catch the piles in his arms as he walks up to you.

Why is he so friendly?  
  


You laugh anyway, nodding to his request and Blue’s eyelights twinkle, “I WASHED YOUR CLOTHES, AND ADDED SOME OF MY CLOTHES FOR YOU TO WEAR WHEN WE GO OUT. THIS WAY YOU DON'T HAVE TO WEAR THE SAME CLOTHES TWICE!” He says, outright showing you the pile of clothes, not a speck of dust in sight.

A frown crosses your face without warning. 

“WHAT'S WRONG?” Instantly concerned. 

You break your stare with the clothes, regret filling you over the fact, “nothing, just, you didn’t need to do all that for me.” 

Gingerly you take the pile as Blue’s face creases, you continue. Sinking your fingertips into a clean jacket, “i know you said the hamper was for laundry, but uh, i wasn’t thinking clearly yesterday and i shouldn’t have made you clean my clothes...i’m sorry you had to touch all of that dust.” 

When you finish his eyelights are almost...sad. “IT’S NOT A PROBLEM COMIC. YOU DID NOTHING WRONG, I DID IT BECAUSE I WANTED TO.” His voice was sincere and a small smile was set upon his skull. 

There’s…no arguing with that, and it’s not like Blue’s a child. He’s said it himself, he did it out of choice.   
You nod. “ok, ok. well, thanks anyway.” 

“NO PROBLEM! AND MIGHT I SAY, YOU’RE UP EARLIER THAN I ANTICIPATED!” 

You shrug, “i like to wake up early.” _Liar._

Blue’s eyebrows raise exponentially at that, “Wowzers...”

_Wowzers?_ Now you’re the one confused, “what?” 

Blue flusters, cheeks splotching a nice light blue as he stumbles over his words, “I THOUGHT YOU’D BE...WELL LAZY LIKE MY PAPY SINCE YOU…OH! NOT TO BE RUDE, BUT UH! OH MAN-” 

Ohhh, well it does make sense. There’s always a pattern when it comes to alternate versions of yourself and Pyer, if anything you both were very mismatched.

“-I DON’T MEAN TO BE RUDE, BUT-”

“Blue. it’s fine. many people _patella_ me the same, i don’t exactly look or act like the most punctual.” you say, grinning. 

And like a charm Blue’s expression narrows, pun clearly absorbed. “....I’LL LET THAT PUN SLIDE _THIS_ TIME COMIC BECAUSE I REALLY AM SORRY!” He finishes, eyebone creased.   
  
You grin at his bumbling and shrug,“heh, it’s really no problem. i noticed a pattern with all of our versions, so makes sense to make assumptions. no harm no foul.”   
  


“HMM, IF YOU SAY SO COMIC… OH! BY THE WAY, ME AND EDGE WILL BE MAKING BREAKFAST TODAY! HAVE ANY REQUESTS?”

Oh.   
You’re caught off guard by the offer but you answer anyway, “no.” pausing, you quickly follow up, “anyway, i’m going to change, i’ll see ya’ soon Blue.” Quickly stepping back up the stairs with a wave, you leave him no chance to answer. 

Blue seems like he wants to say more but relents, thankfully. Yelling an “ALRIGHT, SEE YOU!” at you before leaving.

A sigh of relief instantly leaves you with him. Closing the door to your room, you’re left to change once more alone. Good thing too, you don’t think you would’ve been able to hold onto the conversation.

The sky blue sweater given and your clean jacket gives you even more relief...before you sadly realize they don’t exactly match. You remember Pyer’s reaction to you outfit yesterday...Do you really wear it that often? 

Yes, you realize, you do. Everyday in fact…. You make the executive decision to forgo your jacket despite the comfort it’s fabric gives off.   
You linger but like the day before, you leave the jacket. 

The end result feels...off, but is satisfactory. Clothed in black joggers that are far better than shorts, and a now...cropped sweater; Blue’s smaller than you anticipated, it all feels so...normal. And familiar.

_You never were good at dressing yourself. She’d always tell you to try on the things hidden in the back of your closet. Pushy._

_“Stop being so lazy.” she’d say throwing clothes into your face._

_“See, you look so nice in blue” She’d say, green eyes shining beautifully at you._

_Blue became your favorite color._

Your spine peaks out from under the sweater and you feel yourself blush at the nostalgic feeling of a compliment and the new style of this universe….It takes an awkward amount of effort for you to leave the room.

But once the sweet aroma permeating the air hits you, you move faster. 

It’s Black whose eyelights you meet first. 

You both freeze, midstep towards the staircase and him up. But, Black scoffs and funnily enough, deeming whatever he was doing not worth it, as he turns around. 

What? You raise an eyebrow but continue walking, eventually ending up side by side with the uptight skeleton.

The atmosphere is weirdest you’ve ever felt as you make your way to the kitchen. 

In the end, no words are exchanged despite the constipated look Black has. He walks into the kitchen as if he owns it, and he sits down in front of a mug that he downs in seconds. It looked steaming hot, and you’d guess he was already down here beforehand. So why-

“AH! COMIC, GOOD MORNING!” Pap’s voice says from behind you, and before you can turn a hand plants itself on your shoulder. You tense and before your mind can catch up, your body moves. 

A loud slap reverberates in the air, and the sizzling sound of food is left to fill the emptiness it leaves. Pap looks shell shocked, hand stuck midair as yours is, the harsh pulse of magic in the air is suffocating and your hand aches from the force you put into it. Your eyelights shrink into pinpricks. 

The early morning energy is gone.

“WHAT-” Edge’s voice cuts through, but your voice finds its way. “i’m sorr-”

Pap stops you both. “I’M SORRY FOR TOUCHING YOU COMIC! I SHOULDN’T HAVE, I’M SORRY IF I MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE.” 

You’re stunned. He’s so sincere, and you feel worse for slapping his hand away. A shaky exhale leaves you as you step away from him. 

“...next time just warn me.” Your voice is flat. 

“I WILL COMIC, I REALLY AM SORRY.” Wow, you’re scum. 

Embarrassed, leave to go sit. Unsure what words are proper to assuage the situation, you avoid everyone’s eye lights. 

It really wasn’t his fault, it was yours. You didn’t feel him approaching you, whether it be from his friendly disposition or your lack of concentration, it was all of your fault. 

Good job, _Sans_ . “COMIC?” Great going. “COMIC?” **_You should just-_ ** ”...SANS?” 

“what?” you say, looking up from the polished wood of the table. “sorry, was thinking.”

Pap, clears his throat sitting before you, “WOULD YOU LIKE A DRINK?”

That...actually sounds great. You perk up, “yeah, that actually sounds good. got any coffee?” 

“YES WE-“ you begin sitting up but Pap’s eyelights jitter and he almost yells before you get far, “I’LL GET IT! YOU DON’T HAVE TO STAND!” 

You shake him off, “well, if i’m staying here, i’ll have to know how to prepare it myself right?” 

Pap the sweetheart, crosses his arms in a huff, “THERE’S ALWAYS ANOTHER TIME FOR THAT! PLUS IT’S ALREADY PREPARED, SO PLEASE SIT AND RELAX.” he says, before basically sprinting towards Edge and Blue where you supposed the coffee(?) is. 

It's weird getting told what to do but you sit either way, not finding it in yourself to argue. And in record time a cup of coffee is set before you.  
Pap leans over before you can do anything, a metal pitcher in hand as he sets down a small bowl of sugar cubes. “DO YOU WANT SOME CREAM AND SUGAR?” he says gently.

Like fire, a flush burns your face under the attention, it feels like he’s babying you….You snatch the cup, “it’s fine.” 

Pap seems content with that, leaving to help set up. You relax, noticing Black, who sit’s near foregoing his...phone in favor of staring at you.   
Ignoring him, tentatively you take a sip and surprisingly you find yourself pleased. It was perfect; usually coffee made by others wasn’t strong enough to satisfy you. 

As if sensing your thoughts Black guffaws, “I SEE YOU HAVE TASTE AT LEAST, UNLIKE THE REST OF THEM.” It condescending but it’s a tone that fits him. 

You grin, “it’s really good, you make it?” 

If Black could look even more proud, he did, “OF COURSE, WHO ELSE DID YOU HAVE IN MIND?” 

Chuckling, you drink more. “i don’t know, but thanks anyway.” 

“I DIDN’T MAKE IT FOR YOU COMIC.” Black grumbles, looking away as he leaves to refill his cup.

Promptly sitting down after, he says no more and neither do you. It’s...nice. Reminds you of Gerson in a way, you miss the old man...on second thought, Black probably wouldn’t like the comparison. 

  
The imagery still stays, and the new setting feels unreal.

It’s not before long when the calvary arrives. Filtering in with combinations of grumbles and shortcuts, they all don’t let their guard down when you come in sight. It’s obvious they’re trying though. 

Pyer’s sharp eyelights sharply land on you once he shows. This time though, Pyer just sits next to you. As awkward as his movements are, you don’t know what to say as you eye him. It’s uncharacteristic. 

Shocked, you blankly watch as food and skeletons fill the table. Further realizing how little control you have and how this, will become your new normal. 

You wish it’ll last, at least for now. 

As the rest bustle in small talk, Razz and Edge are the most prominent of voices. You grab a singular pancake, sensing the magic in it sufficient enough, but as expected this doesn’t settle well with the rest. Particularly Blue to the left of you and Pap a few seats away who shoots you looks of concern. 

Surprisingly enough, it’s Mutt who initiates conversation.   
“is it good?” 

Drinking your cup dry you almost don’t hear him, “huh?”

“the coffee good?” 

You tilt your head, “your brother makes good coffee.”, turning your now empty cup upside down and Mutt seems to like that response because he smiles. 

“yeah, milord's good at that. he makes it everyday, so count yourself lucky….” he says lightheartedly before his tone goes deeper, “though, i like to stick to the good stuff.” 

Whipping out a bottle of hot sauce...taking a deep gulp, he drenches his pile of pancakes in it. Your jaw goes slack and you’re sure Pyer chokes to your right. 

Oh my Stars, you feel as if you should’ve expected this and yet...oh my stars. 

Black face palms and the other skeletons groan in horror. “THAT’S DISGUSTING!!!” 

“OH MY-“ 

“UGH!” 

“EWWW-”

“Hah!”

“c’mon man..”

“for fucks sake...”

An outright laugh bursts forth from you and Pyer cringes away. “that’s the good stuff huh?” You’re sure your laugh is a borderline giggle now.

  
You don’t remember seeing such degree of pure ridiculousness...from anyone in a long while. You’re painfully amused.

“yup.” Mutt’s yellow eyelights glow at the sight. “you never know ‘till you try y’know.” he says, slowly putting the bottle in front of you. Black to his right looking scandalized. 

You take the bottle in hand, curious, Edge looks sick and Pap looks aghast. Pyer and Blue simultaneously lean away. You take a big swing. 

It’s quiet. And you….you….regret everything. Slowly you hand it back, and Mutt’s eyebones are through the roof. 

Face blank, you speak simply, “...you’re insane.”

The whole room basically agrees in revulsion and while you don’t show it, you’re rather horrified having nothing to chase away the taste. Meanwhile, Mutt shrugs as he eats his monstrosity of a breakfast. 

A feeling flutters in you, and for once, you break out a small smile at the idiocy that genuinely feels right. Ignoring your need for more coffee, you eat slowly and the rest simper down. The raise in magic only bothers you a little this time.

Pyer looks to be hiding his amusement, and you find yourself enjoying that expression on him better. 

“ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT ANYMORE?” Blue says, eyeing your empty plate. It’s sweet but you truly wish he’d stop while ahead 

“i’m full.” You say flat, before directing your attention to Classic before more could be said on the topic. 

“you said that we were going to leave today, to get clothes, right?”

“yeah, but before that we need to get you guys ids.” Classic begins, “but in order to do we gotta head to the embassy, get you guys interviewed. it’s protocol for new monsters.” Pap nods in agreement next to him. 

“GREAT. I’M FINISHED WITH MY MEAL SO ANYTIME SOON WOULD BE GOOD.” Pyer says with finality, looking great in a nice orange over shirt and jeans as he stands. 

Classic simply shrugs, eye lights flickering to both of your forms, “alright then, guess there’s no time like the present.”   
  


“lets go.” 

-

Vehicles in this universe aren’t fueled through magic, instead it’s oil, gas, and a veering engine. And Pyer looks downright mummified in his seat next to you. 

You understood why. 

The permanent thrum of magic that came with your world was gone. Sure, your company were strong boss monsters that exuded it...but the humans in this world? You felt nothing, and the air felt strangely clear. 

It was a shift that you didn’t realize in the mansion.

Now that you were outside? You were painfully aware of it. 

Faintly, you remember cars and the highway, but now...you find the lack of familiarity disturbing, and you’re sure Pyer agrees for once. The big car Pap drives is _fast_ and with the windows opened, the wind does nothing to calm him but it is something you don’t mind out of the whole endeavor. The whistling wind helps assuage your thoughts.

All the while Classic eyes you both with humor, while Pap, completely oblivious, chatters about all the ‘fun’ things you’ll get to do together alongside Blue, while Stretch grins, honey in hand. 

You’re unsure Pyer will last that long...he might as well be passed out. 

When you arrive, you both step out of the car and you can’t help but gape. 

Pyer and you look around to what seems to be a city, monsters and humans galore. 

If the lack of magic in the air is shocking, the diversity and numbers is overbearing. In Delta, there were plenty of mages, but never this much, and so lacking in magic. 

“IS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS?” Pyer asks, avoiding a bunny monster and human that he barely misses as you all walk. 

“Yep.” Stretch says, an amused look in his eyelights. “i felt the same when we first came. humans everywhere, never seen one before.” 

Pyer nods albeit rushed, “YES, WELL I’VE MET MANY HUMANS ON A DAILY OCCASION, BUT NEVER SO MUCH WITHOUT..” he pauses, “WELL, MAGIC.” 

Blue’s eyelights take the shape of stars and you want to ask him _how-_ “MAGIC!! YOU SAID THERE ARE MAGES IN YOUR UNIVERSE RIGHT?! DO ALL HUMANS HAVE MAGIC?” 

Pyer laughs lightly, eyelights a bright lavender and you find yourself shocked as you eye him, “YES, WELL THERE ARE RARE OCCASIONS OF NON MAGES BUT THOSE ARE REPORTED TO HAPPEN ONCE IN EVERY DECADE OR SO.” 

“that’s pretty cool, i’d love to ask you more about it later but we’re here.” Classic interjects, and sure enough you are. 6 skeletons and a big government building, what could go wrong. 

Quickly, you are escorted into the biggest building you’ve seen in this lifetime. In comparison, you feel so small climbing its steps and Pyer keeps you at a close distance no longer talkative, definitely agreeing with the sentiment. He still doesn’t look at you though. 

His eyelights trace everyone who passes by, and funnily enough you recognize some. Some who probably were far gone in your universe. You swallow it down as you enter. 

Pap wastes no time at the desk as you all stand by, and at record time you and Pyer both are separated, led by different humans. Pyer squares up and you find yourself straining to stay still. 

These humans, their souls are so quiet and you sense nothing… it’s uncanny and you’re sure Pyer feels it as well. 

You don’t want to leave him alone, but you know this is necessary. Sans and Pap accompany you as Blue and Stretch does for Pyer. 

It doesn’t help. 

There are papers and agreements to be signed in a large room with machines you don’t recognize, and windows that seem darkened. 

The packet and pen handed to you feel heavy. 

_Do you find yourself having ill feelings towards humans-_

_If in a conflict with a human, can you control yourself enough to refrain from using magic-_

_Under no circumstances, take a human’s soul out without permis-_

The questions and rules are relentless, and the interviewer, Ms. Kovanji, _digs_ once papers are handed back. 

“What are your opinions on humankind?” she asks, as if this was not in the paperwork you spent the last hour signing. 

“i see them as equals.”

“Yes or no, are you able to control your magic fully?”

“yes.”

“Would you say you have a short tempered?” 

“no.”

“Any relatives?”

“...no.” Classic looks confused to your left. 

“No? No parents? Siblings?” 

“no. no one.” you say through gritted teeth. 

She leaves it at that and continues. 

No, yes, no, you asked this already, no. It goes on and on, and with every answer the questions seem to get more intrusive, Pap on your side looks..upset, but you’re sure that you don’t look happy either. 

“Where did you get those scars?” It is the most off topic one yet and if you had blood, it would _boil_. 

You clench your fists and you breathe in heavily. Looking straight, she stiffens when she meets your eyelights. Crimson blares. “ _w_ _ha-_ ” you start. 

“IT SEEMS AS IF YOU’VE ALREADY ASKED ALL OF THE QUESTIONS THAT WERE REQUIRED. NOW WE MUST MOVE ALONG.” Pap says suddenly, voice firm. 

“Excuse me-” she begins, bristling. 

“ **Yes?** ” Pap no longer looks friendly. Smile gone, his voice is low and the deepness that reverberates shocks the woman into silence. You find yourself shocked into silence as well.

At the lack of reply, Pap smiles patting himself off before approaching her, “NOW THAT WE’RE FINISHED WITH THE QUESTION SEGMENT, WE’LL HAVE THE ID NOW, AND _THEN_ TAKE OUR LEAVE... _MS.KOVANJI_.” The way he says her name is almost mocking, and you gasp in air. What in the world. 

The photo is taken by a woman you’re sure is trembling, and Pap smiles as she hands the card to you. You feel strangely flattered if anything. 

When you all leave into the mostly empty hallway, Classic deflates into himself like a balloon. “thanks bro.” 

Pap pats his head also at ease, “IT WAS NO PROBLEM BROTHER!” 

He turns back to you, sympathetic, “I’M SORRY FOR ALL OF THAT COMIC, THEY SHOULDN’T ASK SUCH RIDICULOUS QUESTIONS. I’LL MAKE SURE THIS ISSUE IS RESOLVED QUICK!” He says, confident, far too nice for his own good. His soul is brilliant. 

You stare only a moment more, “...it’s fine, really nothing i didn’t expect.” 

“BUT STILL-”

“we got it done and over with, there’s nothing to worry about.” You walk past them back to the main entrance as you spare a small smile that reaches your eyes.

“thanks.” Voice sincere and soft.

You turn before you can see Pap’s face shining a bright orange and Classic’s a nice blue, shocked. 

…. 

Turns out Pyer’s interview was quick and done in a snap. Thus, the trio of skeletons were left awkwardly waiting for an hour. Pyer looks up, and you catch what you believe is relief in him, you’re imagining things. Blue perks up and asks what took so long. 

For some reason the relief of the whole thing being done and over is replaced with tension within you. 

You say it's nothing and next thing you know you’re back into a vehicle, on your way to buy clothes. 

Classic has a funny look in his eyelights and you stare hard out the window. 

The wind is loud and the sound unappreciated.  
Faintly you hope that was the last of intrusive questions thrown at you.  
But in this universe, you know it won’t be. 

You’re correct.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes me soooo long to write, I try to get ideas as I spit out messy drawings on tumblr 24/7. So far, I managed a whole chapter where the plot goes nowhere ;-;
> 
> But hey, if you want to know how Comic and Pyer look like, feel free to check it out! Comment and constructive criticism welcome.


	9. Trips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mall, escalators, and the million dollar question.

Blue and Pap had grown on Pyer far quicker than he anticipated. 

Not only did they lack a bad bone in their bodies but they were kind. Seemingly having energy to spare for yards. 

They make the trip on Pap’s death machine far more bearable that is, talking about meager things. 

Their ambitions, their likes and dislikes; royal guard, spaghetti and tacos, puns. Which funnily enough, he agrees with for the most part. Although he does find their opinions on naps rather extreme. 

Pyer finds himself thinking that they need to learn how to appreciate moments of calm. One could never know when it might come back, so why waste it? 

But, in spite of such things, Pyer hasn’t seen such _happiness_ in a while. 

It made sense that their… brothers were protective. 

And as they lead him to the supposed Embassy, he just hopes Comic was as on edge as he was. Whether out of spite, Pyer can’t tell. 

The humans here...were almost invisible to him. If not for his mere ability to see them, he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from an overactive plant. That’s how little magic they held, they possessed, presences cloaked with a sense of nothingness. 

It was almost sad in a way. How these humans lacked that bond, that in tune feeling with oneself, with others. But yet again, maybe that’s why this world was peaceful and his was on fire. 

With less weapons on hand, people will most likely surrender whether it be to peace or control. 

This multiverse thing was truly more mocking than he initially examined. Like waving a piece of food in front of one starving, it really was a big fuck you. 

Pyer almost loses it when he recognizes one of the monsters in the crowd, someone he knew didn’t last. 

Something he’d guess that he'd 've never had a chance to witness if not for this cross dimensional travel thing Pyer had going on. One he never asked for, not that he even thought about it before.

Which is also why he finds the human before him becoming more and more irritating and amusing as time continued. 

The man supposedly meant to evaluate him, barely had his pants on straight; curly haired and wincing at each movement Pyer took; His stuttered words could barely pass as audible. 

Stars, he wished Stretch, the overgrown carrot and Blue would stop giggling in their shared corner like babybones. 

Pyer could barely restrain his own laugh, Pyer couldn’t find it in himself to hate the questioning. 

“-h, P-Pyer, sir, would you say, y-you have full control over y-y-your m-magic?”

“YES, I DO.” Pyer says, very amused as the human writes it down on a packet. 

“Opinions on h-humans?” 

Pyer quirks an eyebone and the man shifts in discomfort. “I DON’T MIND THEM, I SEE THE SAME WAY I DO WITH ANYONE. PEOPLE.” 

The man nods, obviously liking the answer. 

“D-Do you have any relatives t-that you know of?”

Pyer paused, the silence prompting the itching feeling of eyelights on the back of Pyer’s skull. But nevertheless he found himself stumped, never before answering this question despite it being not uncommon in sense. 

I mean, it’s been suggested or assumed before, but Pyer never truly gave an _answer_. 

But now, it feels as if the room is closing in on him even though it remains the same size, both in width and height. 

The window is still small and the man in front him still has a nervous quirk in his brown eyes. Nothing changed...so why?

It shouldn’t be that hard. Yes or no. Common knowledge, _everyone has a fucking family Papyrus, just answer the fucking question._

No. It is not that simple. Did he?? Have one, that is, was….Sans his family? G..Gaster? Had they ever called him brother or son? 

_They never did._

“I never did…” Pyer whispers as he looks up and he’s not sure what his face shows, but the man for a moment looks concerned. 

Pyer inhales artificially and straightens up, “NO. NO FAMILY.”

The words leave the air stiff and Pyer almost cries out in relief that no one decided to bring it up later. 

The wait is abnormally long for Comic, but it gives him time to calm his mind and soul. The answer was one that shouldn’t have been hard to find, he knew it from the start. 

But, in the end things are always harder to say out loud.

\- 

The ride to the store was a quick one.

Muffled words and wind that grazed your skull, you stared at the blurry images swept by the speed of the vehicle.

You peer at the others in your periphery, taking in them; despite doing so repeatedly this whole trip. It is still hard to cement in your mind. 

You watch. How Stretch’s legs hunch far less than Pyers, his slouch and the softening of his eye lights when landing on Blue. Pap’s pristine skull behind the driver’s seat, void of cracks like Blue’s. Classic’s sparse looks, and how he manages to look on edge while appearing to be the embodiment of relaxation. 

How Pyer sits next to you, but he stares straight ahead. Eye lights sharp but much more at ease, he’s nodding absentmindedly to whatever is said to him, short hums of agreement. His long legs and wide shoulders don’t brush yours for even a second despite the proximity.

As you turn to look back out the window, you feel a laugh rise within your ribs. The information gained in such moments like these slotting alongside many other tidbits that are jarring. Puzzle pieces that jumble together, not quite perfect in pattern but rather forced. You feel rather vacant and full at the same time. 

The ride itself is not long at all, and you take with weary indication that you’ve all come to a stop, the images no longer blurry.

A sigh you didn’t know you’ve been holding leaves as you all shuffle out. The air is easier to breathe and you lean on the car as you watch the rest get situated. Willfully taking note of the other vehicles and souls congregating in the area, you feel yourself become alert. 

Pap shoots a nice smile at you before announcing you all to follow. The sun is high and shines directly onto you, but you barely relish the weather as your hands twitch. Automatically following your companions to the establishment; the clothing(?) store....has far more people and attachments than the embassy. 

Intimidating is a very good word for it. 

Stretch and Classic on your and Pyer’s sides, you find yourself once again at a loss of where you are. It was for another lack of words, busy, ripping at the seams with people and monsters. 

Unable to quell the building trepidation at the sight, you switch to peering from the corner of your socket, at Pyer. Desperate for a distraction. 

The sight is worth it as you enter the store. While as stiff as a board, his face betrays his facade of stone. Pyer’s simply struck with amazement and awe the moment everything comes into sight, and that’s all it takes for him to forgo whatever hesitation burdening him. Gaping at things and asking whatever he can. 

It’s an expression you can’t remember seeing on him and it takes your attention far more than whatever this building holds. You unconsciously pay extreme attention to each emotion Pyer flickers through, try as you might to remember it. 

The others are glad to answer whatever questions and queries he has, and you watch with intent and slight amusement. Being able to see the cogs in his skull turning, curiosity and mind racing to make sense and imprint on this weird world.

It fits. 

Always having been curious, Pyer had a thirst for knowledge that was unchallenged and unrelenting...unless regarding you. He gave up on you a long time ago.

The noise around you filters out whatever thought you had.

You break your stare, taking this moment to also intake the new setting, acclimate as to not be so on edge. Shifting slightly, you narrow your eye lights with every movement from the nonstop influx of strangers. 

While you don’t consider yourself to be paranoid, you’d guess at least here...you were textbook definition. But, who could blame you? 

Be it the window like roofing, the bustling of people, the multitude of stores, the voices, the exits, the faces. 

The stares. Humans with souls this quiet were to be approached with caution. _Anyone_ had to be approached with caution. 

And as you continue your trek, it’s obvious these people; while used to the presence of monsters, obviously find interest in the group of skeletons in their vicinity. It piques your excitement and nerves at once. 

But then it hits you, witnessing murmured comments and the cocking of heads when taking another look…. These humans didn’t know you, whether it be your history, your notorious repertoire, what you represented. They didn’t fear you, no, instead they were intrigued, unabashedly gawking, and ignorantly cautious. 

They’re not aggressors, by any means. Fully blind to whom they critique, they were simply curious.

The change in pace is a fast one, but you’ve always been quick on your feet, or so you’d like to think. But now, you’re sure of it. 

In a way, the mall, the embassy, these magic void humans; all of it was less daunting now. You’ve seen worse, handled worse, seen humans with magic at work. These...were nothing of gravity. 

It was almost laughable how hard you were thinking on it and you find yourself returning stares and making people turn abruptly from your scrutiny.

Panicked squeaking and the instant diversion of eyes, humans floundered so easily here. They were settled in a peace where skeletons were the most shocking factor in their day. Lucky; you were almost jealous. 

And when you catch the scrutinizing stare Pyer's shooting you from your right, you shrug. A smirk growing on your face as the girl you made eye contact with ran off. Lucky. 

“WHAT IS THAT?” Pyer asks with a voice suggesting terror, you look back to where you’re headed. 

Up ahead, Blue steps forward on large moving steps. You find yourself jarred but also recognizing it for some inane reason. It doesn't change the fact you want nothing to do with it and you stop yourself from backing away. 

Blue, faltering, comes back pointing to it, “IT’S AN ESCALATOR.” 

“oh, that’s what it is.” Is all that exits you. People begin staring at you all for another reason. 

You’d think a monster that could prank across space and time could handle some engineered stairs. No. You thought wrong. 

The escalators are horrifying, but for Pyer, it’s life altering. 

You find yourself laughing your metaphorical lungs out when Pyer becomes a rock incarnate. Having been coerced on it, you’re sure the machinery might break if he held the sides of it any harder. Stretch and Classic essentially giggle at the sight while Pap and Blue reassure him loudly. The humans watch with interest as you turn away covering your face. 

Pyer glares at you, an expression plastered on his face that screams “this never happened”. You catalog it in your memory. 

Eventually, it’s not much farther until you arrive where they intended, a multitude of clothing racks fill your sight and with them, Pap zeroes in.

“WE’RE HERE, FEEL FREE TO PICK OUT WHATEVER YOU NEED OR WANT, WE HAVE THE REST OF THE DAY!!” He says with glee, completely content with the fact he is paying for two adults worth of clothing and necessities. You stare, finally realizing what this entails. 

Uh.

Shifting very slightly from one foot to another, you awkwardly pick at a shirt that hangs, face blank. “are you sure? because-” 

Pap is on you like a hawk, “OF COURSE! LIKE WE SAID BEFOREHAND, WE ARE IN A POSITION FINANCIALLY WHERE WE FIND NO ISSUE IN DOING THIS, SO, DON’T SEE THIS AS A ISSUE BUT RATHER AS…” He pauses, putting a gloved finger to his chin, “COMPENSATION FOR ALL YOUR TROUBLE.” Lavishly finishing it off with a large smile. 

You could feel Pyer’s incredulity at the skeleton and you only find it in yourself to nod.

“IF THIS IS COMPENSATION... I CAN’T IMAGINE WHAT YOUR VERSION OF A GIFT IS...”, Pyer says offhandedly at the smiling skeleton, shocked. 

“WE’RE BACK!” Blue announces, sauntering next to you all with a cart, Stretch following him with another. You raise an eyebrow barely flinching. You didn’t notice them leaving, that's for one. 

Minutely you count that as another thought to consider here, the fact that these skeletons are harder to sense if they harbor no ill intent. You sour but school your expression as Stretch hands you a cart and Blue does the same for Pyer. “thanks.”, “THANK YOU.”

“IT’S NO PROBLEM, WE CAN’T HAVE YOU GUYS CARRYING EVERYTHING CAN WE?” Blue says, voice almost teasing. 

Pyer nods in agreement, “I SUPPOSE, BUT THEN AGAIN, I NEVER HAD TO GET CLOTHES IN SUCH BULK BEFORE.”, gingerly holding onto his cart. 

“Well,” you say, pushing it, “there’s a first for everything i guess.” passing by, briskly leaving with only one directive in mind. 

Clothes, for the unspoken for future, that’s what. Plus you’d prefer to be alone although you’re sure they won’t let that happen. One could dream. 

You’re almost sure Pyer is shooting you an annoyed look. 

Avoiding the shirts overall, you briskly walk over to the long sleeves you’ve managed to spot. Mindlessly gathering a couple of mediums in the same style, Classic’s grinning mug blesses you with a cameo. 

Great. You pay him no mind as you continue. 

The others disperse as well, most likely helping Pyer or finding something by themselves, you continue grabbing whatever you happen by. The silence between you both almost tranquil.

It’s weird, but strangely easier than you thought. 

“what do you think of it here, so far?” Classic finally says from across the rack, watching you give faces at a particular sweater that says “4 out 3 people struggle with math”.  
  


Chuckling you glance up at him, quickly shoving said sweater back where it belongs, “it’s..nice.”

“nice?”

You shrug, “well, other than the interrogation back there, which was expected, it’s pretty peaceful here.” 

“yeah, about that, sorry.” He says, rubbing the back of his skull, “some humans are still pretty scared especially when it comes to boss monsters like us.” He says trailing behind, you walk up to the jackets. 

“well, considering these humans have little to no connection with their souls, it makes sense...” You say thoughtful, grabbing a black jacket with orange accents.

“...it’s scary not having any magic to fight back.”, it’s an afterthought you don’t realize left your mouth until you hear it. You don’t falter in your movement and you just hope he didn’t catch it. 

Classic looks confused for a moment, “you said that most of the humans in your world all have magic?” 

“yeah, the majority are mages. though they all are different depending on their control over their...magic.” Ricky was one of the many mages that scarily adept in their field....You wonder how he’s doing, how Chara’s faring…

“did you know someone that didn’t have magic? ‘sounds like you’re talking from personal experience.” oh. 

Your grin is wrought tight, “heh, you could say that.” you grab another jacket that is a nice dark blue, ignoring the sharp ache in you nape as you swiftly change the subject, “anyway, you guys can count yourselves lucky.”

Classic looks over from the mannequin he’s fiddling with at that, “lucky? why?”

“mages aren’t fun to deal with.” You state, sparing a glance at him, relishing the confusion there. You chuckle remembering all the times Chara challenged you to a fight, “from personal experience they are a handful, even as allies.” 

Classic looks contemplative over that, and simply shrugs, “heh, still, humans are humans. with or without magic.” 

“maybe. either way, it _was_ mages that trapped you all in Ebott right?” You ask curious, walking absently. 

Classic looks surprised and answers albeit forced, “yeah, but that was a long time ago. the barrier is completely dissolved now.” 

You perk up, eyeing the skeleton in front of you. The only answer to the question on your mind, being one, _Frisk._

_Mages still exist, just one in a million...figures._

“that’s good, must’ve took someone with-“

“COMIC!” Blue yells, break whatever tension is held in between you and Classic. You turn, eye eyebrows raised at the sight. 

“I FOUND A COUPLE OF THINGS, I THINK WOULD LOOK GOOD ON YOU!!” He basically yells, eye’s starry as he jostles the big pile of clothes in his arms. 

Looking down at your mostly color barren selection to his, you chuckle. “you didn’t need to do that, but thanks, i’ll check 'em out.” 

Grabbing the clothes, Blue beams leaning over the cart as you critique the articles, Classic coming up and doing the same. Pushing down your nervousness at the closeness of the two, you make out a nice corduroy sweater, a light pink shirt with blue accents, and collar shirts with nice detailing and designs, overall things you most likely would’ve ignored in favor of blander horizons. 

“these are really nice, i’ll definitely get them.” You say simply, eyeing the sizes and deeming them proper, after it wasn’t hard to fit in clothes as a skeleton, unless of course you have a towering physique like Pyer and Pap. 

You grin slightly at the two ahead, a couple feet away talking over a particular jacket that they’re unsure will fit as Stretch simply sleeps on his feet. 

“here, i also got ya something i think would look a skele’ton better on you.” Classic’s baritone softly says as he sneaks a long sleeve and shirt on your cart. Instantly you pick them up, the shirt having the words “no-body can touch this” broad across in white, next to a pile of bones and the horrendous “4 out 3 people struggle with math” one cutting into your eyes. At that one you send an annoyed smile at him for...this guy...

Blue in front of you looks revolted and Classic grins as if nothing is wrong. Stars was he pushing it, but then again these would be good to wear as a shock factor. The look on Pyer’s face…. You smirk at the image and shake your head, “alright, i’ll take ‘em. not for you but for, uh, _science_.”, sharply looking over to Pap and Pyer. 

Classic getting the message, you both chuckle out loud at that and Blue walks off grumbling something about finding more suitable things to wear. 

The trip prolongs like so, the comfortable lull, jokes and comments shared between you both, with even Stretch entering and passing you a orange hoodie that suspiciously looks like his and Blue interjecting excitedly alongside Pap with their findings. The fumbling of Pyer in the background as he bumps into a human, and effectively scares the beard off a man he tries to apologize to.

You still can’t shake off the feeling of paranoia and itch of your skull but to you, it’s not half bad. 

It’s just you and Stretch by the time you _also_ manage to absolutely horrify a young woman into a shivering state. It really wasn’t your intention, you just happened to barrel into her as she rushed around a rack of clothes, short and holding no magic to indicate her presence. 

You feel unphased as she lands on the floor, bag scattered, looking up at you in wonder or fear. It’s honestly...not an unfamiliar sight. “O-oh, shit a skeleton.” is all that you hear and you sigh. 

Stretch tries to walk out in front of you but you move first, “you okay?” you try to say softly, as one would regard a scared animal, but if anything it comes out harsher than intended because she pales. Humans are so easy to scare here….

“I’m sorry man!! I don’t know what I was thinking, sir, or uh mr. skeleton, I swear I didn’t mean to get in your way it’s just-” _Stars._

“it’s fine, don’t go falling for me just yet,” you say amused, and reach down with your gloved hand, “here.” 

She looks stunned, color returning to her face as she mumbles. She thankfully takes the offered hand and you roughly haul her up. 

Stretch already a step ahead of you hands her, her bag, she takes it with her other hand. You stare, eye lights going to her red face and your hand she still holds….

“can you let go now?” 

She refocuses and stutters, “wh-what?” 

“my hand.” You apply slight pressure and she balks. 

Basically jumping a few feet back, she rips her hand away, “S-Sorry!!!” 

Blankly looking at her, you chuckle under your breath. Grabbing your cart from near you, you continue on with a small salute, “no problem.” 

Then like that it’s over, and you almost slump in relief. Stars, it was pretty funny before but were you really that scary? Stretch nyeh’s from next to you and Classic seemingly materializing from thin air to your left, comments, “you're quite the casanova huh?” 

“i know, right?” Stretch says humorously. 

What does that mean? “casanova? not sure what you mean by that, but she looked pretty horrified to me.” You say with a glance back, accidentally catching her eye as she runs off, embarrassed. 

You turn back and snort, “at least, she didn’t start crying like the man did with Pyer.” 

Stretch and Classic share knowing looks before agreeing, seemingly finding it all funny. 

You decide not to question it, shrugging off the weird behavior, hell you’d expect Red to be called casanova, but you? _You_? Heh. 

And as the silence fills in, you realize neither speak again. 

Eyeing both you can’t help but feel as if they want to ask something, brief looks sent to each other speaking louder than words. You stop in your tracks and turn to Stretch, he pauses midstep. 

“you need to ask something?”

“huh?” 

“you guys aren’t as subtle as you think, you want to ask something, go ahead.” you say, staring straight at him, ignoring how Classic slightly tenses. 

Stretch sighs, but answers thankfully. Which is great because you hate beating around the bush. “...look. i this isn’t really our business but.. i, well _we_ wanted to ask why you and Pyer said you guys don’t have any relatives?” He’s awkward, on the verge of trailing off. “during the interview..”

You raise an eyebrow at the question and laugh out right. Both skeletons seem uncomfortable and you grab a turtleneck you don’t look at.

“that’s it?” you ask almost incredulous, “it’s because we’re not, y’know related or anything. i have no relatives and neither does he. if you haven’t noticed me and Pyer aren’t the...closest.” 

You talk casually even though you wonder why your chest feels tight as you do.

Classic’s grin strains, “not close?”. Confused, he sounds almost downtrodden asking, you wonder why. 

“nope.” you say, looking away and grabbing more clothes to shove in your already full cart. “hell, before this, me and Pyer didn’t even live together. we’re only connected through..” you choke up but force yourself to spit out the word, “ _work_.” the mere thing sounds bitter. 

You look back, face flat and voice monotone. “we’re obviously different from you guys, so don’t look so surprised.” 

They look disturbed and at a loss. Stretch keeps shooting looks at Blue from across the store, and Classic speaks, although the slight heaviness in his voice betrays what face of indifference he has.

“....what about ~~Gaster~~?” Stretch snaps his attention to Classic and the mere statement cuts through air, he says the name as if unsure he should. 

He _shouldn’t._

You blank and instantly your expression displays all the hostility you can manage, and your magic blares crimson. The familiar feeling of LOVE coursing through and begging to take the reigns. 

“ _now_ **_that_ ** _is none of your business.”_

They don’t dare to continue the conversation before you stride to Pap, announcing you’re done with shopping. And you don’t know whether it’s their ability to read people or their inherent awareness of their brother’s tells, Blue and Pap instinctively try to brighten up the mood. 

Pyer sends a look at you and you simply glare back. Pap helps you all purchase your belongings and you will for your bones to stop trembling. 

The trip down the escalator, the walk back to the car, and the ride to the mansion doesn’t register as you go through the motions. 

The next thing you’re fully aware of is the clothes spread before you, the plastic bags littering the attic floor haphazardly and the armor spreading across your hands effectively breaking your gloves. 

Looking at the now shredded fabric, you bitterly remember you didn’t get any spares at the store. 

Fuck. 

\- 

You don’t know the protocol for these sorts of situations. 

For stars sake, you _live_ with these people now. What were you doing?

Carefully organizing your clothes into the closet given, you try your best to distract your mind away from your hands, the aching in your forearms, and the painful pulsing form your back skull. 

Finding yourself not at all wanting to leave your room anytime soon, when Pap knocks on your door for lunch you say no.

If anything it’s to avoid them and because an appetite is just something you don’t need right now. 

Not with your hands...which haven’t reverted to normal. 

Clawed and abrasive they stay that way, at the ready to fight. You’ll have to wait it out. 

Dinner is also something you don’t participate in and when Blue, disappointed, leaves this time, the last thing you expect is Pyer. 

Specifically Pyer short cutting into your room. Rude. 

It takes all you can from jolting away as you stare at him from your seated position on your bed. The magic is hostile and he’s pissed, that’s all it takes for you to feel the same. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He all but snarls, getting close and standing over you.

“what does it look like?” You stay seated, crossing your arms quickly to hide your hands, unphased by the display. 

“THEY SPENT TIME AND MONEY IN BUYING ALL OF THAT CLOTHES, THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS EAT WITH THEM SANS.” Pyer scolds, much more frustrated than you’d expect. 

You roll your eye lights, your hands twitching but still remaining hidden. “get off your high horse, i’m not hungry and i don’t know why you’re so mad. you’re in no place to be bossing me around.”

That annoys him. “YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHY, YOU’RE AVOIDING THEM AND DOING WHATEVER YOU PLEASE. YOU ASSHOLE, I KNOW YOU THINK YOU’RE SO MUCH BETTER BECAUSE YOU’RE JUDGE BUT HERE YOU’RE-” His ranting cuts off the moment you stand, abrupt. Effectively slamming your forehead to his, snapping his skull away in an instant. You’re not in control of your own movements. 

Your eye lights blares as frustration chokes you. LV instantly takes the reigns as the frustration bubbles up from within you. 

All you can think about is that day. “what the fuck do you know? if i want to be alone, i can.” you jab a finger at the door, “those fuckers can’t dictate what i do with my time because i’m stuck here with you! it has nothing to do with me being a judge, get your fucking skull straight Papyrus and back off.” This isn’t like you but for some reason you feel energized.

“WHAT THE HELL SANS!” He yells, stepping back surprised at the amount of emotion you’re expressing, hand to his forehead. “WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO ACHIEVE BY ACTING LIKE THIS? HIDING AWAY-” 

“i’ll do exactly that, we’re stranded and i gotta think on it, so i’ll stay here away from them for as long as i so fucking please. i’m sorry you're not mature enough to last more than half the day alone with these super scary strangers!” you finish off mockingly arms splayed out.

“you can’t make me listen to you-” You barely catch the flicker of emotion he has before cautious concern comes like a wave. You stop and step back. 

His figure is less stiff as his eyebrow scrunches up. “WHATS WRONG WITH YOU-” His sight staying resolutely on your hands that are still armored. 

You hide them, “get out.” 

“SANS-” 

“ **Out**.” you glare through a trickle of fear that stays in your soul. 

He doesn’t leave, and stays rooted glaring. “NO, I WON’T….IS IT the LV? What prompted it?” He asks, voice quieting down as his eye lights take a soft violet. 

You cackle, “why are you even asking?” The anger is there but silent, unknowingly you clutch your forearm, ready to activate it. “you don’t care.” 

It’s harsh and Papyrus instantly winces, the reaction confuses you. He clears his throat, looking away, voice harsher. “WHATEVER, I JUST HOPE YOU HANDLE IT. I NEVER SEEN YOU THIS BROODY.” 

He scoffs but it’s not convincing, “IT’S NOT A GOOD LOOK.” With that, he turns and leaves, shutting the door normally behind him, you stare. With him, all that’s left is you. 

You click the device and your eye sockets become half lidded. Your hands revert to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait as usual, it's hard for me to write in general as I have trouble moving the story along, so I hope you all enjoy this update and my dumb excuse.  
> Comment and constructive criticism welcome!!


	10. Step by step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight conversations and progress. Comic makes some realizations and thinks. Hard. Classic need a nap and Pyer needs social skills.

When Sans, or _Classic_ as he was so kindly dubbed by the others, started fixing the machine. It was a distraction in the simplest of terms. 

A distraction. To forget for a moment and focus all his energy in finishing where he ended all those years ago, finding _him._

But sadly, what Classic didn’t anticipate in his all nighters, research and trips to the underground scouring for forgotten papers, was the chaos that followed. 

He remembered where it all started, the inkling of curiosity, the vague sense of hope as he and Pap created a home on the surface, the….dreamless nights. 

Getting the machine in the basement was the matter of utilizing some favors and shortcutting. Making sense of the actual machine? 

It made out to be an entire mountain that Classic was left to climb without magic or any help. 

For sure he tinkered with it underground, curious. But once the resets truly started, all projects, ideas, passing interests went to waste. 

But this was different, he was different and in need of a way of accepting his new life.

And to contrary belief, while Classic was notoriously lazy in nature, he was the farthest from it. And when given incentive, it was harder for him to stray from his venture. 

_Gaster._

And he did it. He fixed the machine; making sense of what the shitshow Gaster left behind...only for it to blow up back into his face with alternate versions of them. 

Classic truthfully didn’t think he had it in himself to handle it.

With each pair brought new feelings, new questions Classic never bothered with, never had to ever think about. 

Before the surface, it was just Sans and Papyrus. But now? He knew that wasn’t true. 

First it was Blue and Stretch; closest to normal but swapped, a flipped world, with them, Red and Edge; a undeniably violent world based around LV. Then Razz and Slim, a darker version of Blue and Stretch, and Mutt and Black a somewhat swapped version of Red and Edge… all connected and jarringly similar in design. But with sickening clearity, this was most obvious in Axe and Echo. 

In their twisted and horrifying visages. It was like looking into a mirror that showed one of many of Classic’s nightmares. A version of _him_ from the unknown future, a version that he and Pap would’ve _become_. It was….

On second though….It was a good thing they were transported here. He never wanted to have to imagine what it’d look like if they were left to fester. 

Axe and Echo weren’t Classic and Pap, weren’t nightmares nor horrifying and bloodthirsty, they were just Axe and Echo the skeletons, nothing more or less. Classic didn’t have to remind himself of that anymore. 

Now here they were, for the 6th time, another pair of skeletons on their hands. Comic and Pyer. 

By far not the worst or best introductions, not outright violent but rather diplomatic in their staying. Different and foreign. Not only in mannerisms but dynamics, leaving more questions than answers to fill his mind, more than he knew what to do with. The questions, not necessarily _good_ ones. 

Either way, with them came... **fear**.

He hasn’t encountered someone with 19 LV since… Nevertheless, Comic unsettles something in him, he himself refuses to acknowledge. 

One thing is plain and simple to him; he can’t _trust_ Comic yet. Be it the insane amount of LV, or the suspicious devices implanted in his arms and spine, he’s unpredictable, a unwarranted variable more so than the others. 

_Do you think even the worst person can change. . . ?_

The night of their arrival, Classic dreams of red eyes and he wakes up hours before everyone, his ribs continue to have phantom pains the rest of the morning. 

Thus counted the 2nd day of Pyer and Comic’s arrival.

After waiting a good amount of time to not seem suspiciously early, he wasn’t surprised to see the new faces but still definitely on guard. Although seeing the formerly intimidating skeleton in a soft blue sweater that’s slightly cropped makes him look….nice. Nicer than he was wearing _dust_ for one. 

Overall breakfast is surprisingly comfortable. Comic trying...hot sauce and Pyer reminding him of Pap with his hidden smile, they look to be adjusting. And when they’re finished, as if by tradition the new skeletons are shuffled into a car instantly prompted by Comic. 

Their reactions to the car are even more _humerus_ . Watching in the car’s mirror, Classic amusedly found himself eyeing how Pyer is gripping the seats for his life and Comic’s subtle fidgeting with shared amusement. Stretch visibly sharing the sentiment, he catches his friend’s eyelights and he finds what he’s looking for. _Keep watch._

It’s risky, bringing them out into public but from what they all saw and experienced, it’s better to let the pair breathe and observe. So far they haven’t proved themselves as threats but one could never be too safe, which is why they’re there. 

Classic won’t let them be plastered across the news. 

This would be a test.

The interview...leaves Classic’s poker face faltering, more questions than asked but he doesn’t cement anything down for sure. Things were more complex than he anticipated, but there was no point in jumping the gun. He plans on asking a few questions himself later, after all. 

And when they enter the mall, the pair both pass with flying colors to his relief; interacting with humans easily, if anything the pair are more off kilter with the fact that the humans _don’t_ have magic. 

Humans with magic... now that sparks his curiosity. It’s only an added bonus for witnessing Pyer on the escalator. Classic feels kind of bad for the guy as he looks at the machine as if it’s a rabid animal but he and Stretch can’t _not_ chuckle. 

Comic is unapproachable when he shops, resembling Black in a way, purposeful but exuding a want to be alone while Black is just painted to appear intimidating. Thankfully Classic is the right skeleton for the job. 

Something doesn’t sit right with Classic when he talks to Comic; his soul pulses with unease but he can’t pinpoint what it’s from. 

Comic is nice, but also blunt, throwing Classic off his game. It makes him almost want to make him smile, even if it’s a result of really bad shirts. He flirts with a woman unknowingly and treats everyone civilly, easy to talk to but short with his words. 

In a way Classic is happy with Comic’s blunt nature, leaving no room for procrastination that he and Stretch are privy to. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they stalled any longer.

Right now, the straight answer is worse than a vague one. 

Comic doesn’t consider Pyer family. Doesn’t see him as his brother...and some reason that statement sets a heavy weight on Classic’s soul. 

For as long as Classic remembers, Pap meant the world to him. With the loss of Gaster, he was left taking care of himself and Pap even though he was the farthest from qualified.

But, even if the whole underground, no, the whole universe was against them, they always had each other. He wouldn’t trade it for anything. So...why, why was Comic and Pyer different? What went wrong? Would war truly be the breaking point for a connection that traversed across universes? 

Classic found that revelation...extremely upsetting and the last push he needed. 

Classic can’t help but hope. Even if Comic said he had no relatives, was there a chance, an inkling of _Gaster_ being _alive_ in their universe. So far, he had no such luck with the others…. It was the same story just altered. The malfunction, the void, the emptiness in the minds of the underground left behind. But Comic and Pyer were on the _surface._ What need would a _core_ do? Logically, with no core, there would be no malfunction and therefore… _he_ would be alive. Hopefully.

Classic was observant and a damn good judge. He caught what Pyer wanted to ask when they met, _“G-...”_ If Comic has a silver of information something to bring to the table, information that could….help Classic bring _him_ back, it’s worth asking. 

“....what about _Gaster_?” 

The look he receives in return, reminds him of the judgment hall. When he told a kid to get dunked on and of their face when they returned. 

Classic’s sense of self preservation stops him from asking anymore questions. 

\- 

The night is quiet, you’re tired and shaking. 

Your head is heavier than anticipated and it’s taking all you have in order to not fall. A cup of coffee sounds amazing right now. 

...What have you done? You sigh, head cradled in your rigged hands as you hazily go over the argument in your mind. You just didn’t understand his motives, actions, words, why he...pretending to care. Pyer was acting so different now. 

It’s been a while since you both lived together and had to interact in close quarters. Sure you both fought, but as Judge you had different priorities and a whole entirely different role than the Royal Guard. So why? You _knew_ it was only because you were the only one he knew, that _had_ to be the reason. But then again...

Your mind was probably playing tricks on you. It always did, especially in times of war. Either you’re strumming with unbridled magic, constantly moving as you awaited orders or you were recovering in the halls of the labs. Your labs, away from invasive eyes, and jabbing words.

But no, you were here, in public view and unstable. Pyer’s hand was forced to pay you unnecessary attention. 

It was no secret at least to yourself that you weren’t helping the situation. But in the end it’s all you can do. 

Risk eating too much; lose the clammy handle you had over your LV and sleep; risk wake up screaming from a night terror. It was a cycle you thought you broke away from when...Constance was alive. 

You need a cup of coffee. 

-

The lights are out by the time you trudge out of the door in your jacket, hallways painting a dim blue light as you look for any sign of the others. 

No one. Good. 

You make no sound as you traverse the staircase, feeling the cool wood with your imperfect hands as you blankly stared ahead. The ceiling seems even more high as the darkness swallows it and the silence being your only company. 

You wonder how Pyer feels, whether he’s sleeping well. You wonder if the rest heard you guys…. Your eyes are half way lidded but you walk, straight and absent. 

The kitchen is a welcome sight, but you halt at the mouth of it, your soul might as well leave you at this point. Classic. Sitting there in the dark at the dinner table, in his ketchup wielding galore. 

He doesn’t notice you but you stand still, staring. You note his similar state, and you decide then and there. Walking in, his head almost instantly whips up at you, eyelights gone and his body going completely rigid. 

“Classic, you know how to make coffee?” is all you offer as you hover over the machine you saw Pap get the coffee from earlier. Truly at a loss for how to proceed with the thing. 

It takes him a moment but he shakes himself out of the daze he got himself into, nodding. “yeah, i’ll show you.” Getting up, the abrasive sound of the chair scratching the floor is the only thing that suggests you both are there. 

Leaning on the counter you watch carefully as Classic deft hands work the machine, soft words instructing you as you hum your assent. It's over before you know it and you halfheartedly watch the glass coffee pot fill as the whirs of the machine fill the air. 

Classic does the same, but the rigidity in his posture suggests his hesitance. 

“look-” “i’m-” 

Both of your voices break the silence and you chuckle airly, deciding to go ahead. 

You swallow your pride, “i’m sorry.” 

He looks shocked but you continue before he can reach his own conclusions, “no, i’m not sorry about it not being your business.” you correct sharply but then simper, “but, i am sorry for being rude. i know you didn't mean anything by it.” 

Shrugging, trying to seem nonchalant despite a curling feeling of embarrassment at your defensiveness earlier, you add on, “anyway, i actually wanted to thank you. for...y’know everything.”

He’s wordless before replying, “it’s no problem, and...i shouldn't have asked anyway, it was my bad.”

It’s awkwardly silent before the beeping blares from the machine, you ignore the fact that you almost jump at the interruption. 

You work hand in hand, retrieving cups when Classic deciding he needs some coffee as well. It’s a weird atmosphere and your soul buzzes as you both get seated to the dining table, but you sip either way. 

The cup seems to weigh down your arm and you let it, “...how badly did i mess up the machine?” 

A chuckle escapes, as he scrapes a hand across his skull, “uh, not gonna lie pal, you messed it up pretty bad. i ordered all the spare parts, so they should be comin’ soon but it’ll take a long to fix or even clean up.” The previous topic is left for later and you’re thankful for it. 

Wincing internally you nod, “yeah sorry ‘bout that as well...but if it counts, i’m going to help you fix it.” 

“are you sure-”

“yes, i’m not sure about the others but the condition my universe was in..” you met his gaze, “i can’t leave it. i’m not meant for this place, i’m sure you agree.” 

Classic looks up, sweating slightly before taking a sip. There’s your answer.

“...i take it, you had a machine back at home?” 

You lazily lean on your hand, shaking your head. “no.” It makes you lightheaded, “but i _was_ basically in command of all scientific projects in regards to food and magic tech. so i know my way around. though i have to admit, i haven’t touched the stuff in a while.” 

Classic perks up, “you were the royal scientist and judge?” 

“nope.” you say with a grin, “too much work-” lie, “Alphys was the Royal Scientist back home, a damn good help especially with the current temperature.” 

“you mean the war?”

“...yeah.” you drink the rest of your cup as the somberness of the statement reaches you, “how about you? Alphys the Royal Scientist here, Classic?” You say as if you don’t know the answer.

“yeah, she is.” Classic’s grin seems more genuine. “works with the humans, helping out with environmental issues now; you’d be surprised how badly the humans fucked up the surface.” he continues, laughing at an inside joke but you crack a grin at it. 

“well, not surprised but hey, since they’re working together...i guess it can’t be too bad.” 

Classic’s eyelights brighten, “yeah, that’s true.” then darken, “although not all humans are as welcoming.” 

You stare for a moment, “that’s the case with everyone. new isn’t always welcomed, but _you_ know that right?” 

Classic looks put on the spot and his exhaustion is clearer to you, you continue talking without thinking, “the humans were horrified of us, but you know what, monsters feared them more.”

You blankly note the lack of gloves on your hands and the pain in your forearms, “when they learned that fact, we were basically halfway in Mt. Ebott during the first war.” 

It's nonsensical information. 

“but, what changed was that we fought back, we threw away mercy and forced them to see us for what we were. _monsters_.” the word hangs heavy but the connotation of it rings in the air, “if the humans want us to be the villains, we will. in war no one wins, you think everything is fine for a few years and then what.” 

Classic’s eyelights are gone and your nape aches. 

“war comes back and takes what it wants... _who_ it wants.” 

The words are sour and you intake an artificial breath. With it your head clears, you laugh, “sorry, sorry, just thinking out loud.” 

You stand and shove your hands instantly back into your pockets, “anyway, when the parts arrive get them straight to me, diagrams, notes, anything. i’ll start working on the machine tomorrow… ‘night Classic.” 

You leave the night dark and you pass out once you hit the bed despite your best efforts. 

-

_“So you can just reset everything?”_

_  
__“Yeah! That’s what's so cool about this game, it has multiple routes and the characters are soo interesting. I think you’ll like it.”_

_“Sure, I’ll check it out whenever I get the time. So what route are you on now?”_

_“Oh, one of the neutral routes.”_

_“Neutral? What’s that entail?”_

_“Oh, it just means that you kill some monsters but don’t kill all of them. So depending on who you kill you’ll get a different ending.”_

_“Huh. I guess considering how long you’ve been in this shithole you have a looottt of time-”_

_“Hey!”_

_“Anyway, you gonna kill ol’ annoying stumpy then?”_

_“Stumpy? Oh you mean Sans!”_

_“who?”_

_“Sans.”_

_…_

_“Sans! I swear if you don’t answer the door, I’ll rip it down.”_

_“...i could just report you to Asgore.”_

_“Yes you very well can, but I know for a fact you won’t”_

_“...fine, what do you want.”_

_“You haven’t left your quarters in 3 days. Did you even eat? Sleep?”_

_“...why do you care?”_

_“Of course I care. You’re the only person I can have a good conversation with.”_

_“you have Ricky, uh, literally anyone other than me. stop wasting my time, i have important things to do.”_

_“Hmmm…. You’ll regret it.”_

_“what?”_

_“_ **_You’ll regret it and I’ll hate you with my dying breath. I’ll die because of you and you’ll never get this time back Sans.”_ **

**_“I hope you never forget.” Her face melts away into Gasters and you scream._ **

**_\----_ **

You wake up with a gasp and the early morning sun shines on your face mocking, as you stare at an unfamiliar ceiling... Where are you? 

You scramble off the bed, heaving, eyelights darting to get an idea, on the verge of summoning your magic when you search the room. The shelf. The window. The wooden floor. The shopping bags.

A nightmare. Hm. Not the worse you’ve had, visibly sighing, you force yourself to go lax. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your skull, you feel uncannily aware and awake; you’re unsure if it’s a good thing but you’ll take what you can get. 

Getting up your forearms ache harshly, you start to dress quickly into whatever clothes you got yesterday...you _think_. Stars, yesterday night was a mess. You can’t believe you vented out to Classic, he must think you’re insane. If your case wasn’t already horrible. 

You’re just thankful that you didn’t wake up screaming. 

It’s the small things. 

Mid way in a random sweater, it then hits you. Your dream, suddenly replaying in your mind with unnatural clarity and your soul pulses unsteady at it. Resets. Sans. **Fuck**. 

Maybe it was good you lost your journal back there. 

Don’t think too hard. Put on some pants, good. It’s nothing you didn’t know, just calm down and think critically. It’s not that serious. 

It’s not that serious. 

It….it doesn’t matter anymore. Not anymore. Taking hold of a black jacket with orange accents you got yesterday, grip tightening at the sight your gruesome hands are, it doesn’t change anything. You’re still stuck here, so what there was kid that could reset the timeline, so what this was a _game_ , so _what. You already accepted it a long time ago._

It wasn’t your priority and it told you nothing of how to get back. 

You open the door with force and you glare down the steps, _so what._

_…_

You need gloves, you realize. 

Hands hidden within the confines of the jacket you're enveloped in, you stare down the hallway. But who can you ask?

You have a couple of options. Pap, Blue, Razz, Black and Edge. All of them you witnessed wearing gloves... _accurate to their designs._

Pap and Edge are off the list, their hands far too large for you to fit theirs. Blue, Razz and Black it is then. If you’re lucky you’ll find Blue easily. Fun. 

You scuttle down the staircase, head far lighter than it’d been the whole trip as you steeled your expression. But you guess it's some type of retribution for using your regulators 2 times in the same time period, because your arms are unbelievably heavy and they _burn_. 

Hands twitching at their nakedness, you want to groan in relief as you approach the kitchen, where you hear and smell the others wakefulness. For once happy that the others were there.

Coming up, Black is at the stove with Pap and you curse yourself. Blue, Razz and Edge aren’t in the vicinity and the only person at the table is funnily enough Mutt harboring hot sauce. 

You’re shit out of luck. 

You don’t enter and you don’t want to. Sadly your form is hard to miss. Black, clad in a pink apron eyes you instantly. You meet his eyes, but you’re tense and you hope he doesn’t catch it.

“COMIC, ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP ON STARING OR ARE YOU GOING TO SIT?” He says, with a quirk of an eyebrow as he looks around Pap’s form. 

Pap instantly brightens, head cocking in your direction as a wide smile is presented to you. “COMIC, GOOD MORNING!!” 

You want to fidget at the attention but you don’t, instead nodding silently to go sit near Mutt….You don’t know how to ask them if they’re busy. 

Instead you sit, hand glued to your pockets. Mutt eyes you for a moment but he says nothing. 

You bite the bullet, knowing that stalling the inevitable is useless, “have you seen Blue?” 

Mutt shrugs, “dunno. need somethin’?” 

You blank out at that, “nothing.” 

…NOthing?!

You want to curl up and die as Mutt just stares for a moment and shrugs reverting back to ignoring your presence. You sigh reluctantly, “...i..”

Mutt perks up, eyelights hazy, “...hm?”

“...i need gloves.” It comes across softer than you intended and you will yourself from blushing in embarrassment. You were usually saying orders or taking them, just _asking_ was...hard. 

It’s silent before Mutt disappears, the shortcut’s instant and you refrain from jumping away. What?

The other skeletons also sense it because they shoot a curious look, or a rather scrutinizing one from Black. But you stay, leaned back in your seat staring into blank air. 

A minute passes in silence, other than the gleeful words of plans from Pap and Black’s grumbling. Mutt pops up back in his seat and your forearm aches as you clench your hand in reaction. You’re thankful your lower torso is unseen under the table. 

Goddamn shortcuts.

He says nothing as he sits there...almost nervous looking and you're on the verge of leaving before his arm finally leaves from his pockets. 

Without looking at you he drops a pair of black gloves on the table before you. A jolt of surprise and overwhelming glee sprout within you. Where did he get these? 

You decide to not dwell on the thought, eyeing his averted gaze as your hand quickly snatches it. Looking down, away from his sight, at the gloves in your hands and you flex your fingers around the thick fabric. 

“thank you.” you say after a moment, putting them on with more zeal than you’d admit. 

He says nothing and you don’t expect anything more out of him. 

In no time everyone eventually fills in, Edge, Razz and Blue being the loudest and the first, bickering about magic attacks with more energy than you expect from someone in the early morning. Everyone seems to agree as Red, Classic and even Stretch look to be at pain at the noise. 

Pyer enters with Slim and you don’t bat an eye when he chooses to sit away from you. You spare a smile at Pap when he sets a cup of coffee in front of you as he sits with you alongside Stretch.

“COMIC!! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY!” 

You look up from your eggs across the table, “...‘bout what?”

Razz smiles wide, razor sharp teeth up for display from his position basically on top of Black whose yelling indignantly. “WHICH IS BETTER? BEING THE FIRST TO ATTACK UPFRONT OR WAITING? I SAID FIRST BECAUSE THE FIRST TO STRIKE ALWAYS WINS-”  
  


“OFF OF ME YOU FEIND-” Black spat, pushing Razz off with a glare. 

“NO! THE ONE WHO DEFEND FIRST HAS MORE TIME TO COME UP WITH A COUNTERATTACK AND EVEN THEN SNEAK ATTACKS ARE OUT OF THE QUESTION!” Blue objects, and shoots you a look pleadingly. 

“IT’S NOT THAT SIMPLE YOU-” Edge interjects heated and Red next to him is chucking at Black who's now looking at his jostled plate.

You interrupt, “you’re all right.” All eye lights are on you. 

You stay composed as you continue, “it’s all situational, if you’re in a one on one fight, the element of surprise is key but that also has its pros and cons. you strike taking that risk, but you shouldn’t underestimate them because anyone can preemptively expect that intent.” 

You break the yolk of your sunny side up, “of course striking second has it’s benefits, having more time to size up your opponent but, that is if your don’t know them, even then there’s too many factors,” you pause absorbed in thought, “if you’re surrounded, the best thing you can do is be everywhere at once, strike first, second, third, don’t stop attacking. if you don’t give them a chance to think they’ll get overwhelmed and even then if you know you can take a hit don’t stop, don't second think yourself or doubt yourself. you will die if you go in thinking everyone including yourself is invisible. survival is key, there’s no rules when it comes to fighting.” You make eye contact with Blue and he freezes, “don’t let any chance to strike go to waste, because they will take it if they can.” 

It’s silent for the longest of moments before Red chokes out, “i think that’s the most i’ve heard you speak.” 

You flush heavily, resisting from sinking in your seat and Blue looks to be contemplating your words. Edge cuffs Red’s skull in reaction. Stretch from your left looks rather stiff but Razz and even Black look satisfied with the answer. Edge gives you a look you _think_ is approval...?

Pyer looks to be in thought, Slim is smirking and Mutt eyes you. You swallow down your mortification at your rant.

Breakfast passes fast after that and despite the attempts of conversation from Pap, you’re glad to leave the table when you notice Classic nowhere to be found. 

Classic looks more awake this time and he’s drinking ketchup calmly on the couch, but you see the inherent cautiousness in his bones. 

“the machine. show it to me.” 

You’re not asking.

-

The machine is more of a mess than you remember and you suppress the urge of pummeling it into the ground to hide the evidence.

Your intent combined with the fact the momentum seemed to have traversed the universe, where you hit is completely devastated; mess of almost incinerated parts and wires. Before any work can be done, you have to clean it up and take out the now useless pieces of steel. 

Classic shows you everything, all their plans, notes, everything you requested the night before with a dash of all types of handwriting. He’s clinical and thorough in his explanations but manages to sneak in a few puns here and there to lighten the mood. It’s clear all of the hard work they’ve put to get to this point and… that they've hit a plateau long before you and Pyer crash landed.

You knew it but you still sympathize with the shorter skeleton. 

But for the most part you’re silent. You’re sure that doesn’t make him comfortable but your mind is racing far too fast for you to care. 

Your mind for once is clear, and you hate it. It was so much better off when you didn’t remember the obscure details. Because now you can’t stop staring at Classic. 

“Comic… uh, buddy, you ok? you’re staring pretty hard and uh, to be honest, you’re freaking me out.” 

For sure, you _knew_ things, that he was the original and that….but by stars you didn’t acknowledge it for so long. You barely recall your past life, Rose and….it’s been so _many_ years. How are you just…..

Was fixing the machine even going to solve anything? 

It _had_ to work. If it didn’t…..

“Comic? buddy?”

_Stars_. You snap back and chuckle, “sorry Classic, just thinking.” you amend before picking up said papers, “you said that it’s been 3 years from the first malfunction, correct?” 

Classic plays off his nervousness and nods, “yeah, there's been 4 malfunctions in total including you guys most recently.” 

“and have you been working on it before we came?” 

“well, not much, we do maintenance checks bi-weekly but uh-”, “you guys hit a wall.” you finish for him and Classic sputters but sighs heavily. 

“yeah, haven’t made much progress since Axe and Echo. Axe actually helped a lot but he...well in short, yeah, we hit a wall.” It takes a lot of Classic to admit out loud and he almost sinks into his sweatshirt. 

You hum noncommittally, looking at the machine. “i see…” Could you fix this? And would your contribution do anything? You recognize the tech but it’s….simple.

Too simple. They missed one factor but you can’t focus with him here. 

“Classic. can you leave me alone to figure this out?” you say before thinking, and even to you, you sound blunt and harsh. You don’t waver either way. 

Classic freezes wary and evidently, confused, “you sure? the parts are arriving tomorrow and you’re gonna need help cleaning this all up-” 

“i’m sure.”

You guys hold eye contact before he shrugs, “ok buddy, i trust you. just don’t be afraid to call us if you need some help.” He says as he gets up with a wink.

Relieved, you laugh, “thanks.”

“no problem, and by the way,” you blink as you notice he’s looking at your chest rather than your face, “you look good.” and with that he shortcuts. You don’t even have time to feel fear. 

Looking down, there it is. The forsaken sweater stating….“4 out 3 people struggle with math” peeking out of your new jacket.

You laugh out loud at that, refusing to acknowledge the gold glow emanating from your face. 

\- 

The day passes, and you work diligently in cleaning the machine out. Differentiating between functional parts and…. _Comic’s been here, parts._

You already told Pap no to lunch, but by dinner rolls around, with it comes a foreboding feeling. You stiffen before a knock comes at the basement door. 

“come in.” You call out, taking off the electrical gloves and replacing them with the ones Mutt gave you. 

You hear steps and you instinctively look back. The sight freezes you and you balk. 

Pyer. Again. _Again._

“Pap.” you utter off guard. 

In his hands he carries a plate of food and his face is strangely blank. He walks forward and you scoot backward. 

“SANS, HERE.” He says roughly shoving the plate in your hands before you can refuse. You fumble instantly. 

“i don’t-” you start but he's faster, “I APOLOGIZE FOR PUSHING YOU YESTERDAY, IT WAS OUT OF THE LINE.” He says with a light purple haze on his face, hands shoved in a purple hoodie as he took a step back.

He’s….apologizing?

He looks nervous like a fish out of water, and the sight is something never seen before...you gape in shock. Unsure if you're hallucinating. 

Coughing, he turns, “ANYWAY, EAT AND STOP BEING STUBBORN.” he says with finality shortcutting away before any more words are said. You don't even flinch as you grip the plate. 

….you eat and you feel a bit more hopeful about the situation, albeit pleasantly confused. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses, I am bad at writing a cohesive plot and I take full responsibility. Help me.  
> Also thank you for the support and you guys are amazing. Comments and constructive criticism always welcomed. You guys are the only reason I haven't given up on this fic.


	11. Not an Update

Hello guys, sorry for falling off the earth without much or any forewarning. A lot of things have been happening for me lately, or in general which made it hard to stay as inspired or even active in terms of creativity. I love this story and I'm still interested in continuing but it will take some time. I want to thank everyone who've been so supportive or in general just enjoyed my story, be it as flawed as it is. 

Call it a haitus, with hopefully an I will be able to update sooner rather than later, but I just wanted you guys to know I'm not finishing nor abandoning this work.  
If you have any questions, opinions or just thoughts, I always am happy to hear from you guys. Again I apologize for my leave and if I don't get to your comment, it's mainly because of me being busy with life. Anyway, hope you all are doing good ^^

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [we & us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393315) by [Vento_Store](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vento_Store/pseuds/Vento_Store)




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